


Take A Little Pride, You're Killing It

by aigo_babiesatemydingo



Category: The King: Eternal Monarch, 더 킹：영원의 군주 | The King: Eternal Monarch (TV)
Genre: Confused bisexual Gon, Gay disaster Yeong, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 77,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24188221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aigo_babiesatemydingo/pseuds/aigo_babiesatemydingo
Summary: When Tae Eul tells Gon that the Violent Crimes Division has hit a dead-end in their latest case, Gon volunteers himself and Yeong to go undercover. As it turns out catching a serial killer is the easy part, the complicated part is that they have to pose as a couple to do so.
Relationships: Lee Gon/Jo Yeong
Comments: 195
Kudos: 365





	1. Chapter 1

The restaurant was only about a third full, the quiet din of chatter not quite loud enough to cover the rattle of a dishwasher on its last legs. The paint coating the door-frame was peeling, and just behind Tae Eul’s head a lamp flickered. The wait staff looked fed up with everything and everyone, and behind the counter a woman passed her prime in a stained red apron was struggling with a jammed cash register. 

Gon had never been to such a shabby establishment before. It was fascinating. And gross. However, the detective swore up and down that they made the most amazing fried chicken in the neighbourhood and he had to check it out. 

Usually people had to taste his food for poison, this time it’d need tasting for food poisoning. A fly lazily buzzed near his ear, and he swatted it away. 

Across the table Tae Eul rubbed a hand over her tried face. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“Bad day at work?” Gon asked, and got a groan in response as Tae Eul slumped down and rested her head on the table. Gon held back a comment on how dirty that was. There was some unknown sticky substance very close to her, and if the table had been properly cleaned in the last month Gon would be surprised. At least the food sat between them looked good, and the basket it was served in appeared clean and new. 

He thought about complaining at the state of the place, his eyes automatically going to her head. Her hair was tied up, and he knew better than to poke a sleeping tiger. 

“Bad week,” she spoke into the table, voice muffled. “Serial killer.” 

“Oh?” Gon asked, now much more interested. He gingerly picked up a piece of chicken from the basket between them, gave it a careful sniff, and waved it near her face. “Eat, and tell me more.” 

She grumbled under her breath something about entitled, obnoxious Kings and snatched it from his hand. She raised herself back up with a dramatic show of effort and took a large bite, teeth tearing at it like she held a grudge. There was a speck of old sauce on her cheek, picked up from the table, and Gon pulled a face. Tae Eul took no notice. 

“We believe he’s killed at least three people in the past six months, but there could be more. It’s hard to tell. The victim pool... don’t really want to come forward to give statements.” 

Satisfied nobody in the restaurant was out to kill him, at least not via the food, Gon took his own piece of chicken. He hesitated, looked at the fly now buzzing close to Tae Eul, the flickering lamp, and the walls that couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to be tobacco stain yellow, or vomit yellow. He took a bite anyway, eyebrows rising in shock as the taste exploded in his mouth. It really did taste amazing here. Once he was back home he should make a new law that this is how fried chicken is to be cooked. 

“We set up patrols in the area we believe to be his hunting ground, and came across a suspicious character. Shin Jae and Jangmi chased him down, but he got away,” Tae Eul frowned. She hated not solving a crime, not getting justice for the victims. She was a big softy really, under all that brashness and insults – most of them aimed at Gon for some reason he’d never be able to fathom (because Gon, he himself insisted, was amazing, pretty much the greatest person to ever live). “The easiest thing to do would be for officers to go undercover, to try to get him to target them and set him up, but other than Shin Jae we have no one who’d work. Plus, he’s seen Shin Jae’s face now...” 

“Why can’t you do it? Or someone else on your team?” Gon asked, discarding the bone and picking up another piece of deliciousness. Tae Eul was picking at hers distractedly with chipped nails, and Gon vaguely wondered how looking at her own hands didn’t annoy her into filing them. He’d never go out in public looking so unkempt. He’d never look so unkempt, period. 

She hesitated for a moment, like she was debating how much to tell him. Then she sighed. “The victims are all young, attractive gay men. Jangmi wouldn’t be his type, the other guys are too old, and I’m a woman.” 

Gon raised an eyebrow. Gay men? He’d never interacted with that culture, the closest he’d gotten was signing off on the right to hold Pride marches – a document the government had drawn up. “Huh. Interesting. So what are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know.” Tae Eul slumped in her seat again, and Gon winced when her elbow went into whatever was on her cheek. “Potential witnesses don’t want to come forward because they don’t want to be outed, but without them we have nothing to go on. They don’t trust us, and won't talk to cops. Shin Jae and Jangmi weren’t able to get a good look at the suspects face. He might not even be the killer; he could have just run because he got spooked.” 

Gon looked his friend over carefully. She looked exhausted and in desperate need of a break. She wasn’t even eating her chicken; it’d dropped from her hand and lay forgotten on the layer of _something_ coating the table. Bits of who-knows-what had already stuck to it. 

“Well, I suppose I could help,” he decided. 

The detective’s head raised and she eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?” She asked, cautiously curious. 

“You said they won’t talk to the police, I’m not the police,” the King shrugged, taking another bite. “This really is so good. I’m not over it. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it. I’m even putting up with this horror of a place for it.” 

“What?!” 

“I know!” Gon said. “Me, the King, in a dump like this! If the press knew they’d have a field day.” 

“Not that, you idiot!” She snatched the chicken from his hand, and Gon watched in solemn detachment as it flew to the floor. An ant poked at it, but it was like it was poking at Gon’s heart. It really was good chicken. “Gon, you’re a civilian, you can’t get mixed up in this!” Tae Eul shut him down, taking no notice of his great sorrow. 

Slowly, the King’s eyes moved from the chicken to Tae Eul’s ponytail. It wasn’t worth it, he told himself. It was just a half-eaten piece of chicken. He had more. 

“Hey!” Tae Eul snapped, but it was really the swish of her tied-up hair that had Gon’s full attention on her. Definitely not worth it, he decided. “Are you listening?!” 

“Yes,” Gon said. “But I’m ignoring your advice because I’m the King and I can do whatever I like.” Oops, they weren’t the words that were meant to come out of his mouth. He leaned back in time to avoid her swat, but not the chicken that came barrelling into his face. He caught it as it bounced off his nose and took a bite, just to be defiant. 

“You are an actual child,” Tae Eul glared. 

“Says the person throwing food,” Gon glared back. 

The fly buzzed between them, like a twine ball in a western as the hero and villain drew their guns to duel. The detective threw her hands up. “Unbelievable. Does anybody in your world take you seriously?” 

“You’ve been, everybody does and you know it.” Gon stuck out his tongue at her. She threw another piece of chicken. 

Somewhere to the side, a member of staff cleared their throat angrily. The lamp behind Tae Eul flicked its last flicker and went out. Guilty, they both settled deeper into their seats. The fly landed on their neighbour’s food. The man ate it anyway. 

After a few moments of lingering silence, Gon cleared his throat. “You want to catch the guy, right? And stop anyone else from dying?” 

“Yes, but... you aren’t a trained officer,” Tae Eul said empathically, her eyes wide and expression sincere. “I can’t take the risk of you dying or being hurt.” 

Gon looked at her seriously, sat straight and tall in his seat, turning the old dilapidated thing into a throne. “Lieutenant Jung Tae Eul, I am the King of the Kingdom of Corea. I’m the Commander-in-Chief of my country’s military. I’ve been trained in self-defence and war-time strategy since I was old enough to walk.” 

He was winning her over, he could see her waring with her thoughts. She was hesitant, looking at him with serious eyes. 

“You’re always getting into trouble,” she said. “Trouble is attracted to you like a bear to honey.” 

“Pfft. I’m immune to trouble,” Gon said, pointing a chicken bone at her for emphasis. He resolutely ignored the bit of ceiling debris that fell into his hair. “Nothing exciting ever happens to me, Mr Boring is what I am.” 

Tae Eul gave him a look like she was reconsidering his sanity. Again. 

“You’re from another world and you have a crazy uncle actively trying to murder you,” she said incredulously. 

“Small details,” Gon scoffed, waving it off. 

“The chief would never allow it,” Tae Eul argued. “You aren’t an officer. We can’t put your life in danger.” 

“Who said I’d be in danger,” Gon counted. “I’ll just ask around, see if anyone’s seen or heard anything suspicious.” 

Tae Eul leaned over the table a little to get closer. She knocked over her water, and possibly the same member of staff cussed loudly. Gon was not intimidated by this new tactic. “You’ll have to pretend to be gay. Flirt with men. Act interested in them.” 

“Easy. I’m an amazing actor,” Gon said with the confidence of, well, a King. 

Her face scrunched up as she tried again, leaning even closer so she was halfway over the table. Gon carefully moved his glass. “You would need backup, and the only person who’d be able to go undercover with you would be Shin Jae, but there’s the high risk that the killer would recognise his face.” 

Gon wrinkled his nose, like she’d just pulled out a dead rat. “I don’t want Shin Jae following me around.” 

“Well you’d need backup,” Tae Eul repeated decisively, a little smirk of victory growing on her face. “Someone trained for it. ...What, why are you smiling?” 

“I have Yeong,” Gon said, knowing he’d won. Tae Eul pulled back with a frown. “He’s the Captain of my Royal Guard. He has far greater training than any police officer.” 

Tae Eul’s face did a strange thing. Like it couldn’t decide what emotion to settle on. “Jo Yeong? Flirting with anyone? Could he even mange it? He has the emotional range of a rock.” 

Frankly, Gon felt offended on his Captain’s behalf. “Yeong is a very sensitive person,” he told her sternly. 

Tae Eul’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. “There are a lot of words to describe Jo Yeong, and nobody would pick sensitive.” 

“Well, you don’t know him like I do,” Gon defended. “The first time I met him he was crying just because I was. He didn’t even know me.” He paused, considered his big mouth. “... Don’t ever tell him I told you that. He’s really good with guns.” 

Tae Eul laughed, short but genuine, and Gon couldn’t help but smile with her. “I promise,” she pledged. “It’s a secret I will take to my grave.” 

“So we’re agreed?” Gon asked. “Yeong and I will get witness statements and help you catch this killer?” 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Tae Eul said to herself. “I’m as mad as him.” 

“It's the best way to be,” Gon assured her with a winning smile. 

Tae Eul sighed like she had the whole world on her shoulders. “I guess we’re doing it. But we are doing it my way, and if I say it's over at any time it's over.” 

“I agree to your terms,” the King nodded sagely, and then cast a timorous look to the roof. “Now can we get out of here before the ceiling collapses on my head?” 

*** 

When Gon returned to his hotel suite, the most expensive and ostentatious one in the country of course, Yeong was sat watching TV as though he hadn’t been lurking about like some B-movie stalker outside the chicken restaurant the whole time Gon was in there. 

“Yeong,” the King said sweetly, leaning in close, eyes wide and innocent. “How would you like to help me catch a killer?” 

Yeong was immediately on his feet ready for action, hand halfway to his gun and eyes sharp. “You’ve located the traitor? Where is he, your Majesty?” 

“Oh,” Gon blinked, leaning back. “No, not him. I mean a serial killer.” 

“A... serial killer?” Yeong asked, tilting his head. “In the Kingdom of Corea?” 

The King cheerfully danced around him and flopped onto the sofa, picking up the remote and changing channel with no regards as to whether Yeong had been interested in his programme. “Nope, in the Republic of Korea,” Gon grinned. 

“No,” Yeong said flatly, retaking his seat (one over from the King) and gluing his eyes back to the television. Gon genuinely wasn’t sure if he didn’t realise it was a completely different show, or if he simply refused to acknowledge what a pushover he is for his King. 

“Come on,” the King definitely didn’t whine, but he did once again lean his entire body over until his chin was resting on Yeong’s shoulder, looking up at him through his lashes. Yeong’s entire body twitched. “It’ll be fun.” 

“No,” Yeong repeated, staring at the screen like he was in a contest with it. He didn’t blink once. He also looked a little constipated. Was he eating enough fibre? 

The King poked him in the cheek to see if he’d flinch. He didn’t. 

“It’s your King’s order,” Gon said smugly instead. Yeong glared at him and shrugged him off. He landed rather ungracefully on the sofa, and picked himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, wiping invisible dust from his sleeves. 

“You are a King who already has one murderer after him, is that not enough? Do you want Corea to be left with Koo Seo Ryeong as the soul leader after you get yourself killed?” The idea seemed to disturb the Captain of the Royal Guard, his gaze drifting far away for a moment before he came back to himself with a shudder. The thousand yard stare lasted a moment longer. 

“Are you going to stand by while innocent people die?” Gon counted, voice as impeccant sounding as could be. 

Yeong’s glare turned into a scowl. A lesser (or smarter) man would have backed off. “Yes, you are my one and only priority,” he said, but Gon didn’t miss the slight hesitance in his voice. He knew his dear Yeong too well. The King grinned, knowing he’d won this battle before it ever really began. He always did. 

Seeing the look on his King’s face, Yeong sighed his defeat. It wasn’t just Gon who knew he could never win an argument with the King. “Fine. But if at any time I feel as though your safety is compromised, we back off. OK?” 

“Agreed,” Gon nodded. “I’ll let Tae Eul know.” 

“Wait, what? What’s that detective got to do with this? Hey! I’m not doing it if she wants me to!” 

But Gon was already up and walking away, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Did you think I’d find a serial killer all by myself?” He called over his shoulder. 

He didn’t have to see the exasperated look on Yeong’s face when he could hear it in his voice. “Yes! That’s exactly the type to thing you’d do!” 

“The plan is a go!” Gon said happily the moment Tae Eul answered. He got a sigh as long suffering as Yeong’s in response, but she ran through the plan with him, making sure he knew what he was and wasn’t allowed to do, what information to get, and which clubs and bars to hit. All in all, it would likely take a week to cover everything. She ended it with a quiet plea to not let her boss know this was happening because he’d skin her alive. Now, any normal person would immediately back off from any unsanctioned police work, but Gon simply agreed with all the cheer of a man who’d spent his entire life having all his whims handed to him on a golden platter. 

Once that was over, he was herding a besieged Yeong towards one of the suites three ornate bathrooms. “Better make yourself look and smell nice. A refreshing shower, wash your hair, and put on your best clothes to impress,” Gon said. “We have men to flirt with.” 

“Wait, what?” Yeong asked, face draining of blood and eyes going wide, grabbing onto the door-frame like it was a single thread to cling to while dangling off a cliff. “What was that last part?” 

“Did I not mention before?” Gon asked with surprise so fake it made Barbie look real. “We’re going undercover as gay.” 

“WHAT?!” 

He happily shoved Yeong into the bathroom and slammed the door shut in his horrified face with a firm thump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: There is no hetero explanation for Yeong, and the King accidentally becomes a gay icon. They both panic.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, I guess this is it,” Gon said, looking up at the neon signage above the door. “Our first gay club.” 

Beside him Yeong made a strange strangled sound, and Gon was surprised to see how wide his eyes were, like a deer caught in headlights. He looked terrified. He looked like _Eun Seob_. Gon gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” Yeong just barely managed to squeak out. 

Gon turned to face him fully, concerned and confused. “You faced down invading Japanese war ships without blinking, you crossed into a parallel world with no guarantee of safety, you stood in front of a gun for me completely ready to die if need be. Why are you so scared of a gay club?” 

Yeong wheezed. Gon hit him on the back a few times. Yeong wheezed again. 

“If you want to sit this out...” Gon trailed off, but Yeong shuck his head furiously, breathing deep and glaring at the door in front of them as if it had just insulted his mother, kicked his puppy, dropped a piano on his grandma, and called him a whore. 

“I have to protect you,” the _usually_ fearless Captain choked out. 

“I don’t think my uncle is waiting inside a gay club to finish me off. And if he is, never tell a single soul in the Kingdom where or how I died.” Gon paused, considered. “Unless you mean protect me from all the guys that are about to be hitting on me, in which case don’t worry, I can handle it. I’m very used to being hit on, people can’t help but be attracted to my raw animal magnetism.” 

Yeong made a small, aborted move, like he tried to run away but his sense of duty kept his feet rooted to the spot. 

Gon, being the wise and benevolent King that he is, took pity on his subject and decided to put an end to this clearly painful delay. If Yeong was chary to continue, he’d do it for him. Waiting would only cause more suffering in the end. 

“Well, we’re here now, might as well go in.” Gon grabbed hold of Yeong’s wrist and brightly strolled forwards, dragging Yeong behind him like a parent forcefully pulling a child out of a toy shop. Yeong resisted half-heartedly as he stumbled along behind him. After swinging open the door and marching through, the Captain’s sudden startled yell told Gon that he probably should have held the door open for his Unbreakable Sword. Oops. He’s sure it wouldn’t bruise. Probably. 

“Why did you hit me with a door?!” 

Honestly. Is it Gon’s fault that he doesn’t think about these things? Usually there was someone to open and close whatever door he was passing through for him. It was _their_ fault for not being here. Gon was completely innocent. As such, he decided not to respond to his Captain’s complaint and instead purposefully strode into the club proper, still dragging a grumbling Yeong along. 

The loud, heavy thump of music was the first thing they registered, as their eye’s adjusted to the dim overhead lights and flashing colours pulsing over the dance floor. It was just like any other club he’d been too; terrible music seemingly designed to make you drink in an effort to forget about it, bodies in tight clothes withering close together in what was more like an attempt at clothed sex than dancing, people laughing and drinking at the bar, couples in secluded corners doing things it was best not to linger on. The only difference was that everybody was male. 

Well, this wasn’t so bad, Gon decided. 

He looked around, wondering where to start with his investigation. He was yanked quite literally from his thoughts however, almost falling over when Yeong, who’s wrist was still in the King’s hand, tried to turn around and escape. 

What on Earth? Seriously, what was up with his Unbreakable Sword today? He was behaving very out of character. 

“You aren’t Eun Seob again, are you?” He questioned suspiciously. “You’re very... flighty.” 

That was enough to stop Yeong. He looked so offended at the comparison. “I am not ‘flighty’. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Nothing wrong with me. Actually, I’m great. Splendid. Superb. Spectacular. I’m just great, I’m not panicking, what do you mean I’m panicking? You’re panicking! I’m FINE.” 

Yeong was near hyperventilating, and Gon looked around in alarm, like a doctor might just magically appear and make everything ok. If they were at the palace, that is exactly what would happen. But no doctors were forthcoming, it seemed Gon had to calm him down. 

“Yeong, have I broken you?” Oh man, he hoped Yeong wasn’t broken. What would he do without his Yeong? He placed both hands on the panicked man’s shoulders, leaning down to his eye level and not moving until Yeong’s gaze was fixed on his. “Breath, ok? You’re fine. Everything is fine. There’s no need to panic.” 

“No need to panic,” Yeong repeated quietly, then again louder. He nodded his head, eyes remaining locked with Gon’s. 

Gon nodded. The flashing, multicoloured lights and beat loud enough to feel really weren’t helping in this situation. Who’d have thought a club wouldn’t be a calming environment, huh? But the longer they kept eye contact, the calmer Yeong became, until his body was no longer tense and Gon felt confident his wasn’t about to run for the hills. “Good. Now, we’re here for a reason, remember? We’ve got to find info.” 

“A job,” Yeong clenched his fists, his face turning stern with the discipline only obtained by achieving the highest position in the Royal Guard. “I can do that.” 

And then before the King could even really register the change he was marching off ahead of Gon, face set in determination. With eyebrows reaching for his hairline at this turnaround, Gon set off after him, trying to think if Yeong had eaten or drank something funny, or if he’s shown any signs of sickness recently. Maybe he was just going crazy. Perhaps the stress of bringing him to a parallel universe was getting to him. 

They only made it twenty or so feet before Yeong reverted back to panic, manifested in the form of a man. 

“Hey, handsome,” the man in eyeliner and not much else said, sliding up besides Yeong in what had to be the smoothest sway of hips Gon had ever seen. Seriously, 10 out of 10. It was actually impressive. If they were in his Kingdom right now, he’d give the guy an award for that. Maybe even with a whole ceremony. 

Yeong didn’t seem to be impressed though, at least that’s the impression his tightly closed eyes gave. 

“Yeong?” Gon questioned, confused. 

“Uh-huh?” Yeong squeaked, eyes still firmly closed. 

“Are you ok?” He asked. 

“Uh-huh,” Yeong nodded, apparently still feeling no need for the power of vision. 

“...Ok then,” Gon said. 

The man gave them both a strange look. Gon just looked back, no idea what to say or how to explain this situation. Yeong kept his eyes closed, seemingly not giving a damn that he looked like a weirdo (and, by association, so did Gon – which was the biggest crime here). After an embarrassing few seconds of silence the man left, giving them one last strange look. Gon may have watched his magical hips sashay away – strictly in a straight way of course. 

“Is he gone?” Yeong whispered, breaking Gon from his trance. 

“Huh? Yeah.” He turned back to Yeong who opened his eyes with a sigh, looking more defeated than Gon had ever seen him. Even after that time when they were children and Gon picked Maximus as his best friend over him. (Despite Yeong’s tears, Gon hadn’t regret his choice. Maximus was pretty damn awesome.) 

“Come on,” Gon said, grabbing his Captain by the wrist again and heading in the direction of the bar. “I think you need a drink, or twelve.” 

Shouting over the blearing of music that normally Gon would rather give up his crown than be subjected to, he ordered two bottles of soju, and Yeong downed his like a man left out in the desert for a week. It was actually impressive in a pretty gross way; he barely seemed to swallow, just opened his mouth and throat like a snake and poured it down. Gon wasn’t sure if he should tell him to slow down, ask him to do it again, or find a zoologist. 

There was a man next to Gon who was giving him glances, and after he was able to pull his eyes away from Yeong doing his best reptile impression the King tuned to him, plastering an easy smile on his face. Finally, what he was here for. He had every confidence in himself that he’d nail this. 

“Not seen you here before,” the guy said, looking him over with interest. Gon looked back with scrutiny, open and completely shameless. The man was fairly handsome, and his clothes looked like he’d spent a fair chunk of money on them a long time ago. Clean, neat, but faded. 

“First time,” Gon shrugged. He turned his back on Yeong, but could feel his glare burning into his own 100% Vicuna wool coat. “I’m new to the area.” 

“Itaewon or Seoul?” The man asked, taking a swig of his own drink. 

Gon couldn’t help the little amused quirk on his lips. “Country.” Universe, is what he wanted to say. 

“Oh? You sound native. I’m Min Soo.” 

“Lee Gon,” he said. Behind him Yeong hmphed, loudly, but Gon kept his back to him. The Captain still hated it when people used his name rather than his title, and hated it even more when Gon asked them too. It's not as if he had a choice here, however. 

Min Soo peeled at the label on his beer, and cast a quick glance to Yeong. “So, are you here with him, or...?” 

“I’m single,” Gon quickly said, realising the mistaken conclusion that could be drawn by Yeong’s displeasure. “He’s just a friend.” 

“Right,” Min Soo nodded, “good. I, er, I’m not very good at this.” 

“That’s alright,” Gon smiled, shrugging his shoulders, “I have enough confidence for the both of us.” 

Min Soo smiled back, a little unsure. The flashing lights were painting moving shadows across his face, but the nervousness shined through. Min Soo made a little gesture towards the bar. “Could I buy you a drink?” 

“Oh,” Gon said, “I already have-” 

He looked at the bar, at the exact spot he’d put his soju, but it was gone. There were two empty bottles in front of Yeong. 

“Never mind.” He smiled his most winning smile at Min Soo. “I guess you can, then.” 

While Min Soo put in an order, Gon turned to Yeong to check on how he was doing. 

“Fine,” he said tightly when Gon inquired. “You just keep on flirting with that guy. I don’t care. Not my business.” 

Boy, was Yeong weird today. The Captain ordered another drink, and Gon really thought he ought to slow down, but before he had the chance to say anything Min Soo was handing him a glass of beer. 

“Thanks.” He was here for a reason, Gon reminded himself. There was plenty of time to figure out Yeong’s behaviour later. Finding this serial killer was more pressing. If he came back with nothing, Tae Eul would so rub it in his face. “So, are you local?” 

“Yeah. Well, sort of.” He sounded reluctant, not quite meeting Gon’s eyes. Why? Did he think Gon was going to rob him or something? The nerve. He’d not stolen anything since he was a child and his Korean tutor's kid had a shiny Charizard card. (Yeah, that kid understandably loathed him afterwards, probably still did to this day. Gon wouldn’t even be able to blame him.) Min Soo was shaking his head. “Not local local, but Seoul.” 

“Local enough to know the gossip around here?” He questioned, trying his best to make it sound like he wasn’t being questioned. The problem with being a King, however, was that he expected – demanded – answers. Born from years of leadership his voice carried an authoritative tone he found hard to suppress. 

Min Soo didn’t look happy. “Why do you want to know where I live? What’s it to you?” 

Gon was a little taken aback. Why did he want to keep his address hidden? What was he hiding? He swore, if he caught the killer this quickly he was going to make Tae Eul give him a medal. She’d have to shake his hand in front of the press and present him with flowers too. And she’d have to _smile_ while doing it. It would be one of the best days of his life, knowing how much she’d want to be slapping him instead. 

“You really are a foreigner, aren’t you?” Min Soo said with a humourless laugh. “I’ll give you a heads up; its best to not be giving out private information to strangers. You don’t know who’d use it against you.” 

“What do you mean?” Gon asked, completely lost. 

“Blackmail.” Gon blinked in surprise, and turned to Yeong. The answer had come from him. Yeong, however, wasn’t looking at him. He had another drink that was quickly disappearing. Was he going for a record? 

“What he said,” Min Soo agreed. “I bet you even gave me your real name, didn’t you?” 

Ok, now he was very confused. “You didn’t?” 

“Of course not! I’ve just met you. You think I’d risk you blabbing to my family or co-workers?” He sounded so incredulous, like Gon was the one behaving oddly here. 

“But that’s... sad,” was the word that came to mind. Why would he not tell a man in a _gay bar_ his name? If they’d met on the streets, he could sort of see the desire for privacy, but here? All around them there were men dancing together, kissing, probably doing more in the shadowed corners and any backrooms. 

“It's just the way that it is,” apparently-not-Min Soo shrugged. “As a head’s up, man, you should be extra careful, ok? The police have been hanging around lately.” 

“To catch a killer,” Gon said, frowning. 

“Yeah, sure,” not-Min Soo said airily. “But that doesn’t mean they won't make things difficult.” 

Gon’s frown deepened. He wanted to think he meant in the way Tae Eul had said, that it just meant they’d have to admit to being gay to give a statement, but that’s not what ‘Min Soo’s’ tone of voice portrayed. The police were supposed to serve and protect the community – every community – were there some really harassing citizens? 

“Yeah, listen, it was nice meeting you, and enjoy your drink, but I think I’m just going to head home,” not-Min Soo said, smiling but sounding very dejected. Gon felt terrible, pretty sure it's his fault the guy’s night was ruined. He gave Gon a friendly pat on the arm and was gone, leaving the King with far more questions than what he’d started with and nothing to drown out that God-awful music. He didn’t protest when Yeong plucked the beer from his hand and drank it in a few large gulps. 

However his thoughts were put on hold when Yeong kicked a guy in the kneecap. “Woah!” Gon said, quickly reaching for Yeong. “What are you doing?” 

Well, at least he had a new distraction from the unfair suffering his ears were being subjected too. 

“The fuck is your problem!” The kicked man shouted, hobbling and rubbing at his knee. “Fucking bitch!” 

The people around them were starting to notice, those closest turning to watch – a few quickly hurrying away, not wanting to get caught up in anything. 

Yeong went to kick him again, but Gon got between them. The Captain froze on the spot, even with his reactions delayed and made sluggish by booze his base instincts wouldn’t allow him to harm the King. 

The man was still ranting and swearing, calling Yeong all sorts of colourful words, and once he was sure Yeong would behave, Gon turned to him. 

“I’m sorry about my friend, please accept my apologies on his behalf; he’s drunk.” 

Gon thought he’d been very diplomatic. The man didn’t seem to agree. “Get him to apologise! Who the Hell are you?!” 

“I told you, I’m his friend. Now, please calm down,” Gon kept his voice level and firm, slipping into the role of mediator with the ease of slipping on a coat – a skill he mostly put to use when speaking with government officials, because there was nobody more entitled, childish and angry than an adult who believed themselves above others. “I don’t know what happened, but my friend wouldn’t have kicked you for no reason, he-” 

But Gon was cut off, the man getting in his face – or trying too, it really didn’t help his attempts to be threatening when he was having to crank his neck up to yell at Gon’s face. Gon very purposefully looked down his nose at him. 

“How about you get the fuck out of my face before I make you.” He shoved Gon in the shoulder, and in a flash Yeong was on him. Gon was fully expecting it. Nobody could get away with touching the King when the Captain of the Royal Guard was around. Which tended to be always (unless the King was sneaking out of windows to visit other universes. Hey, everyone needed a hobby.) 

Of course Gon ordered him to stop, but, well, if he waited just a smidge before doing so, who could really blame him? 

“But your Majesty,” Yeong said, scandalised, “this scumbag dared put his hands on you.” 

“’Your Majesty’?” The man gave them a look somewhere between hate and bemusement, a blackeye already forming to match a cut lip decorating his face. The people watching had backed off to a safe distance. A few took their phones out, clearly eager to catch some drama, and Gon looked at the devices wearily. A lifetime of the press trying to catch him out doing anything deemed even slightly un-Kingly had left him somewhat paranoid of cameras. Plus the last thing they needed was footage of them in this world; if the traitor saw it who knew what the mad bastard would do next. As far as Gon was aware, his uncle had no idea he was here tracking him down. 

“Let’s go,” Gon said, placing a hand on Yeong’s shoulder. His grip was as firm as his voice, leaving no room for arguments. Yeong followed obediently with one final glare like jagged glass at the man. 

The music was even louder away from the bar, threatening the King with a headache. With a cursory glance around the club, Gon led them to the quietest space he could find, off to the side of the dance floor and tucked beneath a staircase leading he didn’t care where. 

“What was that about?” He demanded, turning to face his Captain once they had as much privacy as they were going to get. 

Yeong’s face was half covered in shadow, the sections lit up by the strobe lights only amplifying his dark scowl. 

“It was nothing,” Yeong dismissed, voice as hard as his face. 

“It obviously wasn’t,” Gon counted. “Yeong, what happened.” 

Yeong took a breath, his eyes borderline meeting the King’s before darting away. “I’m sorry for causing a scene, your Majesty. It won’t happen again.” 

Gon considered him for a pause, wondering if he should push this. Yeong was tipsy, a strong smell of alcohol on his breath. After a moment, the King sighed and shook his head. “Either go back to the hotel, or go back to the bar and wait – but no fighting, do you understand? Do not cause another scene.” 

Yeong ducked his head submissively. “I won’t leave you in this world alone, your Majesty. I’ll wait by the bar. I apologise for my behaviour.” 

Gon waved him off, that headache starting to form. “I’m going to try to talk to some more people, if anyone even will after that.” 

Yeong nodded, still not meeting his gaze, and headed off first. Honestly, this whole night was becoming a disaster. If this damn music didn’t drive him crazy, it seemed Yeong was intent on finishing the job. 

With a curse and a shake of his head, Gon headed back into the crowd. 

However, after twenty minutes he was getting nowhere. Nobody wanted to get personal, nobody wanted to talk about the murders, everybody wanted to get in his pants. Not that he could blame them on that last one; Gon saw himself in the mirror everyday after all, and he had no modesty when it came to his appearance. He knew exactly how he looked. As the latest man sulked off in disappointment after being turned down, Gon cast a glance to his Captain to see how he was getting on. 

Even from a distance Gon could see that Yeong’s eyes were frantically darting about, like he was expecting an attack from any direction at any given moment. He was also continuing to knock drinks back like a fish. On closer inspection he was breathing so heavily he looked on the cusp of a panic attack. 

It was an imposition to bring him here, Gon knew. Yeong felt such a strong sense of duty to him, and perhaps he’d used that to his advantage. But still, his reactions to this night were extreme... Suddenly, it hit the King what Yeong’s problem was, and huh, Gon had never realised Yeong was so homophobic. He must be though, what else would cause him to assault that guy at the bar for apparently no reason, or at least not one he’d give, and be so loathed to interact with the club’s patrons. 

Oh well, the King had things to do. Let Yeong drain the bar if it helped him cope with the current situation. 

He spent the next half an hour continuously being hit on. Most men were perfectly fine and polite, some tried to get touchy but he’d sharply smack their hands away. He did not like to be touched. During this time, he got nothing from them. In fact, the only new information he’d learnt was that apparently a gentleman by the (probably fake) name of Ji Hoon gave the best blowjobs in the city. What was he supposed to do with that information? He could hardly pass on tips of who gave the best head to Tae Eul. Or actually he could, it might be funny. 

“Where have you been hiding all my life?” A voice tickled his ear, accompanied by a hand giving his arse a firm grope. Jumping in surprise, Gon whirled around and smacked it away. A very drunk man stumbled forwards, and Gon had to side-step to avoid being fallen into. The man heaved, and Gon backed off in alarm – his shoes were a.Testoni, thank you very much – but after a few seconds the man steadied himself without vomiting. He smiled lecherously at Gon, or rather tried too – his aim was a little off, likely seeing double. 

Oh God, how did he get out of this situation? “I... I... I have a boyfriend!” Gon shouted wildly, swinging around and scanning the bar crowd desperately for his Unbreakable Sword, apparently he'd moved place. “There!” He said, spotting Yeong between a rowdy crowd, knocking back a shot. “Him! He’s my Yeong!” He turned back to the intoxicated man, triumphant. 

The man leaned around him to see where he’d pointed, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Your boyfriend is doing body shots off a hooker.” 

“What?” Gon said dumbly, and turned to the bar again. This time he actually took the time to take in the sight. He watched, jaw dropped, as Yeong licked a strip of salt off the body of a young, lithe man clothed in nothing but a rainbow thong, picked up a shot glass from between his thighs with his lips, threw it back, then went back down for the piece of lemon on the man’s... oh, oh wow, that was really placed there wasn’t it? 

What? Why? Huh? What was happening? Why was his Unbreakable Sword practically going down on a man on a bar bench while a bunch of shirtless men cheered him on? 

If Gon hadn’t been trained on schooling his emotions his entire life, he’d probably have fallen over in shock by now. 

“Yeong!” He yelled instead, and hurried towards him through all the dancing bodies as fast as he could. He reached him in time to pull him back mid-lick and Yeong came up with his tongue still out and a glazed sheen to his eyes. 

“HYUNG!” He cried happily, and the King suddenly found himself with an arm full of drunk Captain of the Royal Guard. Two arms, actually. “Hyung, you should-” _hic_ “-really try this drinking game,” _hic_ “it’s fun.” 

Hyung? Since when did Yeong ever call him anything but your Majesty? 

“E’body,” Yeong continued, circling around in the King’s arms to address his new ‘friends’, “this is my hyungie. He’s a King. But shhhh, ‘s secret.” 

Gon stared in bafflement. Seriously, what was happening right now? Why were all these men around Yeong, and why was Yeong suddenly ok with this situation? The only thing he could think to do was focus on his Captain. 

“You are very, very drunk,” Gon said, ignoring the cheers and whoops around him, and especially ignoring the calls for him to pick up where Yeong left off. 

But apparently Yeong wasn’t finished. He pointed a wobbly finger at Gon. It went up his nose. He sneezed. 

“’M his Unbreakable Sword,” Yeong boasted, puffing out his chest. 

Another cheer went up, and Gon was so confused as to what was happening right now. 

Yeong, apparently delighted with all the attention, couldn’t be stopped. “He has a horse, a big white horse, ‘s girl with a boy’s name, King’s a lil’ dumb. ‘S good job he’s pretty.” Yeong gave a sad shake of his head, and Gon gaped at him in indignation. How dare he? But before Gon could let his dismay be known, Yeong was continuing. “’S got a magic riding crop though. ‘S sexy when he hits people with it, all poised an’ attractive an’ commanding.” Yeong shivered a little, like he was recalling a very good memory. Then his face dropped and he sighed. “Never hits me with it when I disobey, though.” Inexplicably, Yeong seemed rather sad about this. Devastated may be a better word. “Stupid Max’mus don’ appreciate it. I’d be a much better riding buddy, if y’ know what I mean.” 

Gon did not know what to do with this flood of new information. 

This was all too much to deal with right now. This night really was one confusing disaster after another confusing disaster, and quite frankly Gon didn’t want to deal with it anymore. “Screw it,” the King said, and grabbed a beer from the hand of the closest man. He downed it in one to the cheers of the crowd. If you can’t beat them, out-gay them. 

The rest of the night quickly became a blur. 

*** 

There was a large bruise on his hip, like he’d taken a fall. Gon was clueless as to how it got there. He’d woken up in bed with a killer hangover, and a vague recollection of a ponytail that seemed to radiate anger. Tae Eul, his brain helpfully supplied. He must have gotten drunk and called her to take him back to his hotel. The biggest giveaway was the post-it stuck to his head reading simply: _Chicken place. 17:00._

Was Yeong here? He headed to the guest room, holding his head and wincing the entire way, and saw the Captain passed out on top of rumbled Egyptian cotton sheets, his clothes in disarray and a pungent smell of stale alcohol rolling off him. Gon gagged a bit and closed the door. 

Coffee. He needed coffee. And probably water too, rather than dehydrating himself further, but right now all he could think of was that sweet, delicious bean juice. He stumbled along to the kitchen, and then spent the next minute staring at the coffee machine cluelessly. How did it even work? He tired pushing buttons, but all that happened was that it hissed at him angrily. He frowned. He was a mathematician; he would not be bested by some common machine! He pressed more buttons with purpose, willing it to work, and nothing happened. He hit it, but that only hurt his hand. Damn it! He’s _seen_ Yeong getting them coffee, he knows it works. He just doesn’t know _how_ it works. He jabbed a button, and it made a sound Gon was fairly sure was a warning that if he didn’t concede defeat it would blow up in his face. 

It would be easier to order room service anyway. That’s what he’d planned on doing from the start, he told himself. With wounded pride he got himself a sealed bottle of water from the fridge and picked up the hotel phone. 

He asked for two coffees – if Yeong didn’t wake up soon, Gon would wake him. He didn’t want to suffer alone, and he needed someone who knew how to work basic (evil) household appliances. 

There was a knock by the time he’d finished the refreshing bottle of water, and then Gon had two steaming mugs of coffee. He needed someone to taste it. 

He headed back to Yeong, making sure to kick the bedroom door closed loudly behind him. 

A groan not dissimilar to the sound of a cat dying violently alerted Gon to the fact that he’d successfully woken Yeong up. 

“Morning, Sunshine,” Gon chirped, holding out one of the mugs, waiting to take a refreshing sip of his own. “Somebody had fun last night.” 

Yeong just barely opened his eyes to the daylight, then immediately screwed them closed again. 

Gon nudged him in the head with the mug until Yeong took it, eyes still firmly shut to the large window over his bed. 

“I don’t remember what happened,” the King’s guard murmured, taking a blind sip of coffee. 

“You were doing body shots off a male hooker,” Gon said conversationally, as if this were a routine activity to partake in at the weekends. 

Yeong spat out his coffee all over the very expensive sheets. “WHAT?” He choked. 

“Yeah, it was pretty shocking, I’ll give you that,” Gon continued nonchalantly. “I never knew you had it in you. Then you started telling everyone that I’m a King, so so much for staying under the radar in this world.” 

Yeong moaned into his Mulberry silk pillow, this time the pain all mental. “Your Majesty. I – I'm so sorry. I can explain, I-” 

“Not now,” Gon interrupted. “You stink. Shower and sober up, then I’ll decide your punishment.” 

“Yes, your Majesty,” Yeong ducked his head meekly, pulling himself out of bed without looking at his King, making sure to not spill another drop of coffee. 

“And it won’t be my riding crop,” the King said sternly as Yeong shuffled by. Yeong cast him a confused glance. 

“Your Majesty?” He asked. 

Well, this was clearly going to be a long and awkward talk. And Gon was going to love it, making his Unbreakable Sword squirm was one of his favourite activities. For now, however, the King didn’t want to put up with the smell wafting from the other man and made a shooing motion. “Go and get cleaned up. You can hear all about how you embarrassed yourself after.” 

Yeong’s head lowed again. “Yes, your Majesty,” he said dejectedly. 

He reached for the door, but Gon stopped him one last time. “Take a drink. You didn’t swallow.” 

For a brief flash Yeong’s face turned red, then he took a hearty gulp – ignoring the burning pain. Then he fled. 

Satisfied with a job well done, Gon enjoyed his coffee. 

*** 

As Yeong got ready for the day, Gon took the time to actually go over the events of last night. Could the reason that Yeong was so reluctant about all of this, the reason for his extreme reactions at the club – sober and drunk – be because he liked it a little too much? 

He tried to recall if Yeong had ever shown an interest in men, even one small clue he could have over-looked at the time, but drew a blank. There was nothing that he could think of. He’d seen Yeong around men, he’d seen Yeong around naked men in bathhouses and communal Navy showers, but he didn’t recall noticing anything peculiar about those events. Was he just really good at hiding it? He did have a mean poker face. 

But he was interested in woman, wasn’t he? Yeong had gone on plenty of dates with women over the years. Granted it was a lot of first dates with no follow-ups. ...And they were all set up by Gon. Not to forget that one time Yeong had asked him, tone near desperation, to please stop sending him on blind dates. The King had assumed he was too busy with work and wasn’t able or willing to juggle a relationship at the same time. But if that wasn’t the reason? 

If that wasn’t the reason, how had Gon not noticed? He’d known Yeong since the other man was four. Was he really that oblivious to the people around him? The thought of his traitor uncle and the secrets hidden about him came to mind, and Gon grimaced, grinding his teeth as a well of hatred bubbled up. Apparently, he was. 

The sound of a door opening and shutting let him know Yeong had finished showering and dressing, and he schooled his features into neutral. Now wasn’t the time to think about that bastard. Gon would find him, and kill him. There was no doubt about that. But not today. 

Silent footsteps padded along thick, plush white carpet into the room, and Gon looked up at Yeong. He took a moment to just take him in. He tried to apply the word ‘gay’ to him, but it simply didn’t fit. 

“Yeong,” the King asked slowly, carefully sounding out each syllable to ensure there was no mistaking his words. “Are you gay?” 

Silence reigned for an uncomfortable stretch, the words hanging heavy between them. Yeong fidgeted, and Gon kept perfectly still. He wasn’t answering, so Gon asked again, this time with a weight to his words, a demand for answers. “I asked, are you gay?” 

Another stretch of silence, and then... 

“...No?” Yeong asked back. 

Gon titled his head. “Did you just say that as a question?” 

“...No?” 

Gon’s head titled more. 

They stared at each other in silence, one confused and one panicked. 

“So the whole body shots off a male hooker thing, that was just...?” He trailed off, leaving Yeong to finish the sentence. 

“...Recourse,” was the word Yeong decided on after a few torturously slow seconds. He blinked rapidly afterwards. 

“...Recourse,” Gon repeated flatly, clear to anyone he didn’t believe it for a moment. 

“Recourse,” Yeong confirmed. 

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

“And that part about wanting me to spank you with my riding crop?” 

Yeong was suddenly as pale as a ghost, trying to splutter out excuses but his words were failing him. Clearly, he didn’t remember that part of the night either. 

“Oh, yes,” Gon said, stepping right up into Yeong’s personal space. The Captain gulped, but didn’t dare move an inch. “You were quite clear about how I could put the Manpasikjeok to better use with you than Maximus. This, I assume, was also recourse?” 

Yeong just barely managed to nod his head the tiniest bit, currently incapable of forming words. 

“So you’re fine going out to another club tonight, then?” 

“... N-Yes?” 

Gon just hummed, peering at him suspiciously. He didn’t believe a word coming out of his lying mouth. “You know, I could have you beheaded for lying to the King.” 

“Yes, your Majesty,” Yeong said, apparently very interested in his feet. 

Gon poked him in the chest, and Yeong swayed with it. “I need to get ready, but don’t think I’m done with you.” 

“Yes, your Majesty.” Yeong was still looking anywhere but at the King, his voice small. 

With one last glare, Gon turned on his heel and strode to the master bathroom. He’d get to the truth, one way or another. 

*** 

Apparently, the run-down chicken shop was to be their base of operations. Gon wasn’t sure how he felt about this, on the one hand – chicken. On the other hand – probable death from unsanitary conditions. 

As he entered – this time Yeong went first because he _did_ at least remember getting smacked in the face by the last door – Gon cast a suspicious look at the window next to the door. He was sure that only about 24 hours prior, when here with Tae Eul last time, that window was translucent with dirt and grime. So how was it now already completely opaque? Like a thick fog of smoke and lung cancer. 

A fly buzzed passed their faces, a tiny blob of sauce stuck to one leg, and Gon was certain it was the same one. 

Tae Eul was already sat waiting for them, a barely touched milkshake and a scowl letting them know exactly how she was feeling today. Gon tutted; honestly, she’d get wrinkles. He had plenty of skin care tips to give her, but she never seemed interested. Bizarre woman. 

The two men took seats opposite her which creaked ominously under their weight, but held up – probably more with the willpower of the occupiers' desire to keep off the scummy floor rather than good craftmanship. Gon waited for her to begin. She waited for Gon to begin. Yeong looked between them, not sure which of them was supposed to begin but knowing it wasn't himself. 

The dishwasher remained unfixed, clunking away in the background like the world’s worst theme song. Gon wasn’t sure if it was his theme song or Tae Eul’s, but going by the events of last night he’d be willing to place bets. 

“You owe me,” Tae Eul was the one to break the stalemate, pointing a threatening finger in the King’s face. 

“For what?” Gon asked. 

“Dragging both of you back to your hotel last night! You were incoherent you were so drunk, and Yeong was passed out! I thought I’d have to take him to hospital!” 

Yeong gave him a _look_ , and ok, so maybe he’d left out the part about him being bladdered as well, but that was very minor stuff. Gon wasn’t the one drinking tequila shots from between a man’s thighs. 

“We perhaps didn’t conduct ourselves in the best manner,” Gon relented, taking her milkshake with a bit of a sulk. Gross, strawberry. He gave it her back, and the look she gave him was so far beyond unimpressed. 

“Did you at least glean anything useful for our investigation?” She asked. 

Gon and Yeong shared a glance. 

“I don’t think we did the best job,” Gon admitted reluctantly. To say last night was a disaster was putting it mildly. “We got nowhere with our questioning.” Or, rather, Gon’s questioning and Yeong’s Gay Crisis. 

“’Questioning’,” Tae Eul repeated, eyes glittering in a very-not-good-way, slowly and purposefully pulling a hair tie off her wrist. Gon gulped, but Yeong, the poor fool, looked on cluelessly, unaware of the dangerous waters they were treading in. “That’s certainly an odd choice of word for what you were doing, don’t you think?” 

Yeong didn’t miss the tone though, and now both men were on guard. 

Gon shifted, trying to look innocent while knowing it was hopeless. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh, nothing much,” Tae Eul said mildly. She pulled out her phone and began typing. Gon and Yeong looked at each other, unsure. The King motioned for his Captain to lean over and take a peek, but Yeong shook his head with wide eyes. Gon glared at him, but it was useless. How did Tae Eul have him so well trained so quickly? 

After a few tense moments she looked between them, with the smirk of a woman who’d put up with a lot of shit and was about to extract her revenge. It wasn’t a pleasant look. “I see you’ve been extending your Kingdom, your Majesty. You really know how to inspire the nation.” 

She held out her phone, and Gon immediately snatched it. It was opened onto a Twitter thread, a video waiting to be played. He didn’t even bother to read the comment that went along with it, he just hit play. Yeong leaned over to watch it as well. 

The video started with Gon stood tall, posing before the crowd. He looked proud, righteous, like a King giving one last rousing speech before leading his army into battle, the true definition of Monarch. It was a very impressive sight to behold, one which would capture the minds and imaginations of anyone who gazed upon him. It would have been perfect, if only he wasn’t standing on a bar with a peanut in his hair and a booze stain on his eye-wateringly expensive designer coat. 

“Men!” Gon-on-video called, his voice slightly slurred but passionate. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But tonight I have been learning about who you are, and the injustices that you face.” He gazed around the room, taking in each person stood before him. “We are all citizens of a nation that we love, that we contribute to with hard work every day. But we also live in a society where that isn't enough. A society where no matter what contributions you make, who you help in this life, it can all mean nothing in others eyes if you don’t fall under their idea of ‘normal’. But how is love anything but love? How can love be abnormal when regardless of your partner’s gender you want the same things for them. For them to be happy, to know that they are loved, that they are the centre of your world, to know that whenever they aren’t around you're thinking of them – are they smiling right now? Have they eaten? Do they miss you as much as you miss them?” He gestured to the crowd grandly, knocking a bottle of whiskey off a shelf behind him but seemingly not noticing the crash or the barman’s shout. 

“But some love, society forces to hide away. For some people, they dare not introduce the person they love to their parents, to talk about their date last night with their colleagues. Some people, they’ve been pushed into the dark so far that when the people like them are killed, murdered, they won’t even talk to the police, because that would mean having to go public about their sexuality. They have been ostracised by society so deeply, that they’d rather face the possibility of death than being outed. How is that a fear that could ever be justified? How could any civilisation claim morality when they sit back and allow this?” 

“Sucks, your Majesty,” a voice that was unmistakably Yeong’s slurred out, followed by a boo from the disgruntled Captain. 

“And Yeong! My dear Yeong! He’s my Unbreakable Sword!” The King pointed into the crowd exuberantly, and the camera zoomed in to show an inebriated Yeong in a pink feather boa swaying on his feet and looking on the verge of alcohol poisoning. The hooker in the rainbow thong was helping him stay vaguely upright. It panned back to Gon when he started speaking again. “Always by my side, loyal to the end! Tough, earnest, resourceful, unwaveringly loyal, never afraid of pain – though he also seems to want me to spank him with my riding crop, which is different, but I suppose if that’s his thing...” Gon trailed off for a moment, his mind going to places the Gon watching probably never wanted to know about. After a good ten seconds, someone in the crowd coughed pointedly, and video-Gon seemed to realise he was getting off track. “What was I saying?” 

“You were telling us about your boyfriend’s kinks!” Someone shouted out. 

“Yeah! Tell us more about that!” Someone else shouted. 

“He was TALKING about EQUALITY!” Rainbow hooker snapped, and video-Gon pointed at him excitedly, bouncing on his feet and nearly slipping off the bar. 

“Yes! Equality! Equality and murder! I mean – that people shouldn’t be murdered, not that murderers should have equality. That’d suck, can you imagine if people had the right to murder? So many beheadings. So, so many.” 

“...Why does it sound like he’s fantasising about that?” A whisper was picked up by the camera. 

“But my point,” video-Gon said, “is that we are all born equally, we all strive for the same things; love, friendship, acceptance, to shove it in people's faces that I have the best horse. No matter if you’re born wealthy or poor, in Busan or Seoul, if you’re a CEO or a market stall owner, we are all just people. _People_. We all have hopes and dreams, people we love and, hopefully, people who love us. We share a connection, each and every one of us, simply by being human. And while we have to walk our own separate paths, it doesn’t mean that we can’t build bridges between them, that our paths have to stay apart. We breath the same air, share the same sun, and we should all share our innate ability to love, empathise with, and accept others for who they are, even if they are different to you. The foundation of every society is our humanity. It's how we treat each other. What makes people not great, but _good_ , is that we are capable of so much love.” 

Gon promptly slipped off the bar, and Yeong tried to catch him with an alarmed call of, “Your Majesty!” but tripped over his own feet and face-planted. A split second later Gon had joined him on the floor with a groan of pain. Yeong started snoring. 

The video ended, and that blue Twitter bird was just _there_ on the page, like it was mocking them. Silence took Gon’s throne for a long moment. Nobody spoke. Then Tae Eul said, “Look at what they titled the video.” 

Really, really not wanting to, but never once having been able to conquer his curiosity, Gon did. It read: “Korea has a King again – and he’s a Queen!” 

He put his face in his hands, as Yeong sunk so deep into his chair its anyone’s guess how he was still in it. He didn’t even flinch when the fly landed on his shoulder, like it was giving him a consoling pat. Was it strange if Gon wanted the fly to give him a little sympathy too? 

“Congratulations,” Tae Eul said, taking back her phone. “You’re famous here too. It's gone viral.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Gon’s new-found fame brings different kinds of attention. Gon and Yeong have no choice but to pretend to be a couple now the country thinks they are.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: homophobia

_‘He’s hot, too bad he’s gay. ㅠㅠ’_

_‘I’m sick to death of all this gay shit being shoved on us these days. Fuck off.’_

_‘This would have been a lot more impressive if he wasn’t drunk.’_

_‘Is this an act, or real?’_

_‘’Your Majesty’? Huh?’_

_‘Are those two drunk guys a couple? I think they’re a couple.’_

_‘He looks rich. Typical narcissistic chaebol bastard craving attention.’_

_‘Faggot.’_

*** 

“Everybody in the Republic of Korea thinks we’re a couple,” Gon said, eyes glued to his phone, slowly scrolling through comment after comment of varying opinions, but all agreed the King and his Unbreakable Sword are an item. 

If he was paying attention he’d have caught the look on Yeong’s face, something between embarrassment and longing. But Gon had been obsessing over the Court of Public Opinion ever since they arrived back at the hotel yesterday. It was probably unhealthy how he couldn’t put his phone down, but the comments were still pouring in. 

“So... not too different from the Kingdom of Corea, then,” Yeong gave a helpless shrug, his tone masked neutral. “Have you seen how often #GonJo trends? Half the citizens and a third of the palace think we’re... you know.” 

“Making sweet, passionate love under the stars in the palace courtyard?” Gon asked with amusement, sparing Yeong a second's glance before he was back to his phone. He’d overheard that exact one from a member of the kitchen staff a few months ago. The look on her face when she’d turned around and realised he was there was priceless. 

“Fucking like rabbits on every surface in the Kingdom,” Yeong replied bluntly. 

“Rabbits are cute,” Gon said absently, his mind focused on the comment: _’That drunk guy who tried to catch him is cute, like damn, I’d fall into his arms.’_ “They have nice arms.” 

“What?” Yeong asked, baffled. 

Gon blinked, considered what he’d just said. “Misspoke. I was reading a comment. Someone mentioned wanting to fall into your arms.” Rabbits didn’t have nice arms, and neither did Yeong. Well, he did, all that working out did a lot for him, but _Gon_ didn’t care for his arms. Immediately after thinking that a sudden, overwhelming urge came over him to look at Yeong’s arms – just to prove to himself he didn’t care, he assured himself. And he tried to fight it back, he really did, but honestly what was the point of that, he reasoned. There was nothing wrong with checking out a guy’s physique. He looked, and he made a point of making it obvious because damn his sudden weird bout of shy embarrassment. Gon is the King of the Kingdom of Corea, he does not get shy or embarrassed because the Captain of the Royal Guard has nice arms. 

Oh, he actually does have some great arms. That black shirt he has on is really working for him. How does he manage to look bigger _without_ a jacket on? Who the Hell looks bulkier the less layers they have on? Forget beheading, he’ll have him burnt at the stake for witchcraft, European style. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” 

“Your Majesty?” Yeong asked, probably thinking he’d misheard. Or wondering why the King was blatantly checking him out. Either or, really. 

“Shut up,” Gon snipped, and went back to reading comments about himself. He didn’t care about Yeong’s arms and that was that. Besides, reading about himself was one of his favourite things to do. Well, usually, some of these comments were a little... mean, to put it lightly. 

He ignored Yeong’s sigh, and scrolled down. 

“This person says I’m the best looking man they’ve ever seen,” he boasted, holding up his phone for Yeong to see. 

Yeong looked, nonplussed. “And the person underneath says you’re like a dog with mange.” 

Gon quickly pulled his phone back to look, and stared at the comment in outrage. “Yeong, new orders, forget the traitor for now and track this slug down. Kill on sight.” 

“It's nice to know you have all your priorities in order, your Majesty,” Yeong snarked, and how dare he? The insolence Gon had to put up with on a day to day basis. 

His phone beeped, and Gon looked at the time. Recognising that he’d waste away the hours reading about himself (something he insisted was not a personal flaw no matter what the people around him said) he’d set an alarm to prompt him into _finally_ putting his phone down at some point today and heading back to the gay scene to continue investigating. He pouted at the numbers on his screen. He wanted to keep reading about himself. 

“I suppose we’d better head out,” he sighed, unfurling his long legs from the sofa his body had oh-so-perfectly sunken into. It was the comfiest sofa he’d ever sat on, better than any in the palace and other residences he owned. “It’s safe to assume the killer will never be so helpful as to just turn himself in.” 

“It's basically treason,” Yeong snarked, sarcasm out in full force. “Making the King get off his arse and actually do some leg work.” 

“It actually is,” Gon said seriously. When they left this world he was buying the sofa from the hotel and making Yeong carry it back to the palace. “My royal arse has never been so comfortable. It's like this sofa is made out of happiness and unicorn hair or something.” He gave it a last, longing look, silently promising it he’d be back. 

Yeong rolled his eyes. “Shall we leave now, your Majesty? Are you able to walk or do I need to call a horse-drawn carriage?” 

“My legs don’t look this good from not exercising,” Gon said, patting his thighs. The incredibly fit and disciplined Captain of the Royal Guard did not look impressed. 

*** 

_‘Well said! Apart from the being drunk bit, and the falling off the bar bit, and the rambling bit. But overall the speech was great! We should all be kinder to each other.’_

_‘And people try to say gays are no different from straights? Bunch of drunk, lewd men talking about spanking and dressing like that in public. The whole life-style is disgusting.’_

_‘lol’_

_‘What is this?’_

_‘Is that one guy wearing a rainbow thong?’_

_‘I’ve been going to the wrong parties.’_

_‘Repent. Romans 1:18-32'_

_‘We should all be kinder to each other.’_

_‘What is this? Why is it trending? Nobody gives a shit.’_

*** 

Yeong had been adamant that they not go to another club, at least not today, and after a lot of playful taunting and stringing him along, Gon had promised they’d go to a pub this time. 

They arrived in the late afternoon, while the streets were still quiet and birds outnumbered people. Yeong took some pictures of them as they went along, pointing out different species to Gon, who pretended to be interested because Yeong’s enthusiasm was so cute. Such little foot traffic allowed birdsong and the rustling of tress to permeate their surroundings, a rare luxury in a city that Gon took the time to enjoy as he strolled along the streets with his camera-happy Captain. No bird was left unphotographed. Gon was fairly sure there were some of him mixed in there too. 

They hadn’t seen much of the Republic of Korea, after all there was little time for sight-seeing when crossing dimensions to track down a universe hopping murderer. It was jarring how similar yet different it was. Gon imagined it would be like if he’d moved away from the Kingdom of Corea as a child, not to return until he was an adult. The same old Corea, but no longer truly home. The similarities and discrepancies between the two countries were fascinating. The languages managed to be a near perfect match, the fashion, the culture, and yet the Republic had faced a civil war so terrible that the northern and southern regions had split and formed two separate countries. It was sad to think about, and from what he’d read on North Korea, he couldn’t help but feel pity. He wondered if the people he knew from the northern region, people like sub-captain Seok, had versions of themselves in this universe, living lives under the Kim regime. 

It was grim to think about, and worse that there was nothing he could do about it. 

In no time at all they had arrived at their destination, forcing Gon to put aside thoughts of birdsong and civil wars. They were here for a reason, and that’s all he needed to think about for now. Well, that and Yeong’s questionable recent exploits. 

As Yeong went to open the door Gon threw out a hand before he could, stopping the younger man in his tracks with his body, keeping the door firmly shut. He turned his head to the Captain, waiting until he had Yeong’s full, unwavering attention, and in a serious voice said, “Yeong, no drinking. You become a ho when you’re drunk.” 

Yeong instantly flushed red to the tips of his ears, but Gon didn’t wait for a reply or argument, instead opening the door with a smug smile and stepping through. He forgot to hold it open again, but this time Yeong was ready and caught it before it met his face. He should probably work on his spatial awareness before his Captain ended up with a broken nose... Man, it was hard not having someone do everything for him. How did people cope? 

Stepping inside they saw that the pub wasn’t very full, but not dead. A few lone drinkers, but most people in small groups or pairs dotted about the open plan area. To the side there was a bar that stretched along the whole wall, and at the opposite end of the building to the entrance was a stage area with a karaoke set up, between it all were tables and booths. Light wood, soft colours and dim lighting decorated the interior, giving it a warm, inviting feel. 

Thankfully it was far quieter here than it had been in the club. Soft indie music played as background noise, rather than the heavy beats blaring in the club, and nobody had to raise their voices to be heard. The relaxed atmosphere and the lack of risk of hearing damage was a welcomed relief. 

Deciding to start with a drink, he led Yeong over to the bar, the very bored looking barman relieved to have something to do other than repeatedly cleaning already clean glasses. 

Gon ordered himself a bottle of beer, uncapped, and with a look of resignation Yeong asked for a diet coke. Gon made Yeong pay for both. 

“You are one of the richest men in two universes,” the Captain grumbled sourly as he dipped into his pocket. “But sure, make your staff pay.” 

“Thanks, will do,” Gon replied cheerfully. He used the edge of the bar to remove the cap, and took a satisfying sip, making sure Yeong was looking at him while he did so. Yeong looked gloomily into his diet coke. 

“HEY, EVERYBODY!” An excited voice shouted from somewhere close by, causing both men to whip their heads around. What was happening now? “ITS THE KING – AND HIS UNBREAKABLE SWORD!” 

“Oh no,” Gon said, sending a panicked look to Yeong. If random people were recognising them from the video, there is no way on this green Earth that Lee Lim was still in the dark about their presence in this world. That complicated things. 

The (thankfully few) occupants were turning to look at them, all curious, like little meerkats surveying the area. Some began to venture over. It was a damn good job Gon wasn’t shy. With practised ease he slipped on his public appearance smile, a long time pro at this game, and greeted the curious newcomers like old friends. 

Apparently somebody was quick to post to social media that Gon was in the pub, because in the time span of thirty minutes it had rapidly become much more crowded (the barman looked pleased with this turn of events), and they all wanted to see him, talk to him, buy him a drink, or proposition him. He turned down the drinks (“But you’re so fun drunk!”) and hook-up offers (“baby, I would rock your world.”), and turned conversations to the recent murders. People quickly lost interest after that, but they were noticeably more open to talking with him, and Gon expertly steered the conversations back to his favour. He allowed himself to be swept away by the crowd, further into the centre of the room where more people were able to ask him questions and talk about the viral video. He got a lot of positive feedback and thank yous, and while Gon was pleased for it, it was a little disheartening that everyone was so blown away by one stranger publicly saying they deserved basic respect. 

The lack of information he was getting was discouraging, but so long as he kept enchanting the crowd someone with some information was bound to pop up sooner or later. As he chatted and smiled and flirted a little, he kept a weather eye on his companion. 

Not at all enjoying their now quasi-celebrity status Yeong hung back, staying at the bar, nursing the same glass of diet coke and replying when spoken to but not engaging. People were quick to pick up on his unwelcoming posture, and mostly didn’t bother him. He kept glancing towards Gon, but made no move towards him. While he wasn’t the mess that he had been at the club, he was still shy, holding back. Gon kept tabs on him, glancing over at least once every two minutes, his curiosity about Yeong’s sexuality still piqued. While he was nowhere close to as high-strung as he’d been at the club, his body was still tense around so many openly gay men. 

The door to the pub – which was really beginning to take a battering – opened once again, another group entering, and Gon immediately recognised one of the newcomers as the same man Yeong had been doing body shots off. 

The man noticed Gon first, but he paid little attention, instead his eyes swept around the room until they landed on Yeong. 

Gon watched, eyes narrowed with interest, as he sashayed his way over to _his_ Unbreakable Sword. Graciously excusing himself from his new admirers, he followed at a slight distance, taking a seat next to the colourfully dressed man and one over from Yeong, listening in without an ounce of shame or consideration for others privacy. 

“Hey, sweet-cheeks,” Rainbow Hooker all but purred, sliding up next to Yeong, knocking their shoulders together. “Miss me?” 

Yeong immediately went pink, and Rainbow Hooker cooed as if the decorated Navy veteran was a floppy eared puppy. 

It seemed Yeong did remember something from that night then, because he clearly recognised the man’s face, even if nothing else. Gon frowned, a little put out. So Yeong could remember this stranger’s face, but not anything he’d said to Gon? Why was Rainbow Hooker more memorable than him? 

“Cute!” Rainbow Hooker squawked at his blush, practically fawning over him. 

_Cute?_ That had to be the first time in the history of two universes that somebody who isn’t King Lee Gon had ever looked at Jo Yeong, Captain of the Royal Guard, and thought _cute_. Clearly, Rainbow Hooker was insane, or wanted to be shot. Everybody in the Kingdom knew that referring to Captain Jo as anything cutesy was pretty much asking to be shot. 

Mystifyingly, however, Yeong did not reach for his gun, just turned a deeper shade of pink. Wow, even crossing between parallel worlds through a magical portal inside a bamboo forest wasn’t as puzzling or bizarre as this. Did Yeong... have a crush? The thought floored Gon. He’d never seen Yeong behave this way before, and the idea that _this_ man could be the one to cause it was baffling. 

Rainbow Hooker latched on to him, wrapping both his skinny arms around one of Yeong’s and laying his head on the Captain’s shoulder. Gon watched, scandalised. Something was most certainly going on for Yeong to put up with this behaviour. 

“Ooooh,” Rainbow Hooker said appreciatively, rubbing a hand up and down Yeong’s arm. “You’re a beefcake under those clothes, aren’t you?” 

Yeong picked up his diet coke with his free hand and took a long drink, face now bright red. Gon couldn’t look away from the pair, like a captivating nature documentary were you just had to keep watching to discover why the animals were acting so out of character, and what came next. It was like seeing a lion scared of a gazelle. 

Gon watched Rainbow Hooker watching Yeong’s Adam’s apple bob. “A man who knows how to swallow, too.” 

Yeong choked, spluttering and hacking into his glass. Even over the choking he looked so embarrassed, so out of place, his eyes seeking out Gon’s like a kid afraid of getting in trouble, and Gon’s heart might have melted a little. 

Ok, this had gone on long enough! Gon wasn’t going to stand for it any longer. 

“Nobody is allowed to kill my Unbreakable Sword but me!” The King snapped, getting up and hitting Yeong on the back to help him because as bad as water was in the lungs, carbonated liquid in the lungs was a whole other level. “He just proved he’s not that great at swallowing, so get lost.” 

He levelled a glare at Rainbow Hooker that would have impressed even Yeong if he wasn’t currently giving not dying his best effort. 

“I didn’t mean to kill him!” Rainbow Hooker panicked, eyes wide and rounded “It was just a joke!” 

“’M okay,” Yeong gasped out between hacking. He sounded like he was about to cough up a whole lung. Gon continued hitting his back and glaring at the person responsible. 

Rainbow Hooker was looking guilty. Good. 

“He can get lost anyway,” Gon grumbled. 

“I’m sorry.” Rainbow Hooker sounded genuinely apologetic. 

“’M okay,” Yeong repeated, beginning to breath normally, thumping at his chest. 

Yeong had spilt coke down himself, and excused himself to the bathroom to attempt to clean up. After he left, Gon turned on the short man responsible. 

“I remember you from the club,” he said once he was sure Yeong was out of earshot. “You’ve only met him once, and you weren’t exactly exchanging names and pleasantries. What’s your interest in him?” 

“Nothing,” Rainbow Hooker said, holding up his hands placatingly. “I just liked him is all.” 

“You don’t even know his name,” Gon gibed. 

“You don’t even know my name,” the man shot back. 

“Yes I do,” Gon asserted confidently. “You’re Rainbow Hooker.” 

The man looked startled for a moment, and then laughed. “Rainbow Hooker? I like it. I should put it on my business card.” 

Gon scowled. He wasn’t supposed to _like_ it. Wait, he has a business card? 

“You have a business card?” Gon asked, taken by surprise. It completely sidetracked him. What kind of weird hooker carried around business cards? 

Said hooker reached into his – yep, he was reaching into his underwear, wow, ok, Gon wasn’t at all uncomfortable about this situation, nor sir, not him, he never got uncomfortable, and oh God, was he supposed to _take_ that? 

Very, very gingerly he reached for the card, barely holding it between the tips of his thumb and one finger. It was just a phone number accompanied by the words: _Live Fast, Eat Ass (preferably mine)._

He quickly dropped it to the floor. “That is disgusting,” he said. He had to put it out there, just in case nobody else had ever told him ball sweat wasn’t an appealing business strategy. Although how they wouldn't have was a mystery to Gon. 

“It’s good business,” he defended, and Gon was ready to argue with all his years of schooling, but just as he opened his mouth Yeong arrived back. Gon dropped the subject, he wasn't about to let on he’d actually touched that damn card. Instead, he looked over Yeong's dishevelled appearance with a critical eye. The drink had stained, but it looked a little better than it had and was now drying. Would it be over the top to pretend they didn’t know each other? If they were back home in Corea he’d not let Yeong within twenty feet of him looking like that. He had a reputation to uphold, not to mention standards. 

“Why are you even in that... business?” Gon asked instead, wiping his hand on a clean patch of Yeong’s shirt. Yeong gave him an aggrieved look, but didn’t complain. Good job he didn’t know what Gon’s hand had been touching. 

“Why give out anything for free when you can get paid for it?” He shrugged. 

And Gon... well, he didn’t really have a reply for that. 

“I wouldn’t charge you though, baby doll. You’d get a freebie.” He winked at Yeong and blew him a kiss. Yeong looked like he was putting some serious consideration into getting a new drink just to choke on it again. 

Gon had no idea a human could flush so much and so hard in such a short time span. He’d figured all that blood rushing around would have caused a person to faint by now. Good on Yeong for staying upright. 

“I’m Min Hyuk,” Rainbow Hooker finally introduced himself. “The resident ho of Homo Hill.” He gave Yeong a purposefully sleezy smile. “Though the way you were dipping down for that lemon, I may have some competition. Gotta defend my title, sugar-pie, even from a cutie like you.” 

Yeong went to go get that drink. 

“Don’t drown yourself!” Gon shouted after him. Min Hyuk watched his arse as he slumped away to the other end of the bar. Gon might have taken a quick look to, but only because Rainbow Hooker was. 

But Rainbow Hooker caught where Gon was looking, and the King may have flushed himself. How was he giving off such wrong impressions about himself so consistently? All this gayness was ruining his cool and suave image. 

“Don’t worry,” Min Hyuk said. “I know that boy’s yours. I can dream though, can’t I?” He cast Yeong a look of longing, and sighed like the world was against him. “Just tell me, how did he get his arms so strong and sexy?” 

“Witchcraft,” Gon replied bluntly. He chose to ignore the completely inaccurate assumption that they were a couple. Everything in the palace belonged to him anyway, and that included Yeong. 

Min Hyuk gave a slow, contemplating nod. “Makes sense.” 

In a flutter of leopard print, squealing, and the click of heels another man appeared, linking his arm through Min Hyuk’s and leaning in close. The apparent friend of Rainbow Hooker had joined them so suddenly Gon had mental whiplash. He was slim and effeminate, with a high voice and enough jewellery that whatever poor fool stood within ten feet of him in the daylight would be blinded. 

“Well hello there, Mr Tall, Handsome and Rich,” he purred, giving Gon an appreciative once over – slowly and as shamelessly as the King would. Gon could see him calculating the price of his outfit. “Looking for someone to spend your money on?” 

“He already has him,” Rainbow Hooker sighed sadly, nodding to Yeong slumped over the bar with another diet coke (thankfully neither choking nor drowning). The newcomer followed his gaze, and then pouted. 

“Well, there’s no competing with that, is there?” Then he looked back at Gon, comprehension dawning. “Oh! You’re those two from the video! I’m so sad I missed it! That club is _my spot_ , darling, but granny had to go and break her hip. Typical. Of course the old hag chooses the one day things get interesting! Can I have your autograph?” 

Gon frowned sternly, voice cold when he said, “You shouldn’t talk about your grandmother that way.” 

The newcomer snorted inelegantly and gave a wave of a bejewelled hand. “Oh, honey, believe me, that was me being nice about her. ‘Hag’ is the kid-friendly version.” 

“It’s true,” Min Hyuk piped up. “Chang Ho’s grandmother lives to torment others. It's like the hate keeps her alive.” 

“She threw me out a window when I was eight to ‘toughen me up’ because I hurt my ankle running,” Chang Ho added. 

“It was a ground floor window,” Min Hyuk put in. 

“Still a damn window,” Chang Ho huffed. 

Gon’s eyebrows were reaching for his hairline. The closest he had to a grandmother was Lady Noh, and he couldn’t even comprehend her acting in such an abusive manner. “Were you injured?” 

“Cuts and bruises, sprained wrist,” Chang Ho shrugged. “Nothing too bad.” With a suggestive wink he added, “I’m very flexible.” Gon chose to just ignore that. 

“She has a little yappy, ankle biting dog too,” Min Hyuk effused, sounding like he was rather getting into this new direction in their conversation. “I have scars on my legs from the tiny demon.” 

“And her house stinks like stale piss and old people,” Chang Ho vented. “Having to go back there day after day, urgh,” he shivered unpleasantly, like trying to shake off a spider. 

“You live with her?” Gon was surprised. He was young, but old enough to have moved out – both of them looked maybe early- to mid-twenties. If he was living with someone like that, he’d move out the first chance he had, even if the new place was a hovel. (Yeong would argue Gon didn’t know what a hovel is, that houses in middle-class neighbourhoods which only have two bathrooms and a small garden don’t count. Gon disagreed.) 

“Used to,” Chang Ho said, “Now I’m all grown up and moved out. Can invite men over whenever I please, honey.” He licked his lower lip, looking straight at Gon. “If you’re ever interested.” 

“I’m straight,” Gon said automatically. 

With no pause, not a nanosecond of hesitation, they both cracked up laughing like they’d heard the most hilarious joke ever uttered, and Gon levelled them a look full of vexation. Why were they laughing at him? 

“What?” He asked with displeasure, perhaps a little harshly. People never dared laugh at the King! Most certainly not to his face! 

“Oh, honey, you’re hilarious!” Chang Ho squealed, hands flying everywhere, almost smacking his friend in the face. “Oh my God, Min Hyuk babe, you _need_ to tell me where you keep finding these types!” 

“What’s so funny?” Gon insisted, leaning back slightly to avoid a few diamonds scratching his beautiful face. Chang Ho would never dare be so reckless if he knew how much the media clamoured over this face. 

“Say it again,” Min Hyuk grinned, completely at ease with all the flying limbs. This must be a regular occurrence. “What you just said.” 

Gon looked between them, beginning to feel a little self-conscious and a lot irritated. “I’m straight.” 

Min Hyuk and Chang Ho howled with laughter again, clinging onto each other for support, and Gon was beginning to lose his patience, because nobody had treated him in such a way before and he wouldn’t stand for it. 

“I’m straight!” Gon insisted with a force that would have palace staff scattering, but the two just wiped tears of laughter from their eyes. 

Fighting for breath the duo got their breathing back under control, and after fanning himself to cool off Chang Ho looked him up and down sympathetically. “Oh, honey, a straight man doesn’t dress like that.” 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Gon asked, looking down at his outfit in confusion. It was the same style as he always dressed. 

“You look like a high-maintenance twink, honey.” 

Gon brought himself to his full height, towering over the two, and looking down his nose at the man said, “I don’t know what that means, but I feel insulted anyway.” 

“Don’t be, it’s a compliment.” The man waved him off with a dazzling flash of jewels, and Gon may as well be a kitten for all he was intimidated. The King deflated in disappointment. That had never failed him before. Damn this country and its lack of respect for monarchy. 

Chang Ho put two fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, gathering the attention of many patrons. He gestured grandly to Gon and called out, “Who here thinks this guy is the cutest twink you’ve ever seen?!” 

There were a lot of wolf-whistles and cheering from around the pub, and Yeong almost fell off his seat. Gon was bamboozled. 

Rainbow Hooker held up his beer between the three of them like a salute. “Twinks keep the Earth spinning.” 

“And dicks hard,” his friend added. They clinked glasses. 

Gon still didn’t understand, which doubly sucked because not only did nobody recognise and respect him as the King, suddenly it was like everyone was in a secret club with code words he wasn’t invited to. 

“Whatever,” he huffed. “Keep your weird gay terms to yourselves, I’m straight anyway.” 

They both snorted in amusement, but thankfully didn’t start laughing again. Gon would probably walk away if they did. Min Hyuk said, “If you’re straight, I’m the King of Korea.” And oh, the irony. 

“Well, actually,” Gon began priggishly, hands neatly folded behind his back, ready to dissuade him of such a notion. But before he could correct him Yeong suddenly appeared at his shoulder, silent as an owl in flight. 

“Do not attempt to steal his Majesty’s title. That is treason, and I shall be forced to behead you,” Yeong said very seriously, staring the two down like they posed an actual threat to anything but fashion. The threatening glare was ruined a bit by the diet coke in his hand and staining his shirt, but still pretty decent. An 8 out of 10, maybe a 7.5. 

Honestly, it's like Yeong was omnipresent when it came to the King. It’s a damn good job he works for Gon, and not against him. Though if he continued silently popping up like this, Gon would have to put bells on him or he was risking a heart attack. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it, honey-bear. The gays love him too much to let anyone else be King,” Min Hyuk waved him off. 

“Everybody loves me,” Gon said haughtily. 

Chang Ho was eyeing up Yeong appreciatively now he was close, and something in Gon twinged with annoyance. These two were starting to get irritating. 

“Well, you boys are certainly into your role playing, aren’t you?” Chang Ho cooed. “If you ever need a manservant you should call me up, darlings. I love to play.” 

“Do you think he calls him ‘your Majesty’ when they fuck?” Min Hyuk stage whispered. 

Gon and Yeong’s ears heated up. Yeong had stopped glaring at them and was now inspecting the ceiling. 

“Oh, for sure,” Chang Ho said back, voice a purr. “I love a good kink. Shame more people aren’t open about theirs.” 

“I-Its not a kink,” Yeong tried to defend, voice weak. Gon caught him casting a glance his way, then Yeong turned his head away in a rush. 

Well, this was one way of introducing yourselves. 

“Yeong, you’ve met Rainbow Hooker, you had your mouth on his dick. This is his friend, who doesn’t need an introduction because we don’t like him.” Gon narrowed his eyes at Chang Ho, daring him to continue. 

Yeong clutched his glass of diet coke closely to himself like a comfort blanket (or a cyanide pill). “I didn’t... I...” 

Min Hyuk took sympathy on him. “Don’t worry, baby-cakes, my junk was covered. You only ate lemon slices off it anyway.” 

This didn’t seem to do much to help Yeong, who ducked his head in mortification. 

“Darling, you are _adorable!_ ” Chang Ho squealed. “I thought your boy here was cute, but you're a puppy!” 

“I was in the Navy,” Yeong tried to defend, but sounded more desperate than anything. “For years.” 

“Sexy!” Was the only reply he got, and Yeong looked utterly defeated. He’d finally met his match, and rather than a traitor with a gun or a violent anti-royalist, is was a gay hooker and his bejewelled friend squealing over how cute they found him. 

Gon put a consoling hand on his shoulder. He kind of understood how Yeong felt. These two were terrors, but oddly endearing. How do you defeat that? 

“We’re supposed to be finding information about the resent killings, your Majesty,” Yeong mumbled. Then he winced at using the King’s title in front of these two, but he didn’t correct himself. Yeong never would, there wasn’t a person in the Kingdom who had taken their oath of fealty as seriously and earnestly as his Yeong. 

Gon gave a look around the room. It had died down again since engaging in conversation with Min Hyuk. Everybody had been polite enough to leave them alone. It seemed some of them had moved on, but many of the crowd were still dotted about, largely at the bar keeping the barman active and therefor happy. 

“Why are you guys so interested in the murders? Are you with the police?” Min Hyuk asked. Chang Ho looked interested in their answer too. 

“Not technically,” Gon said truthfully. “Just trying to help more than anything.” 

Min Hyuk and Chang Ho looked at each other for a long moment, like they were having a silent conversation. Min Hyuk shrugged and turned back to Gon and Yeong. “Okay. We’ll give you a chance. But we don’t know anything, so don’t waste your time asking.” 

Gon nodded. “Do you know anyone who might?” 

They both shook their heads, and Gon sighed. He needed more people to talk to. So far, nobody here had any information to give. Who would? Maybe if he could find some friends of the victims. 

“Did you know any of the men killed?” Two head shakes again. 

“Saw one of them in this pub occasionally, and a few local ones, but never chattered with him,” Min Hyuk said. “He was always alone whenever I saw him. I don’t think he was the out and proud type.” 

“Most people aren’t,” Chang Ho emphasized. “That’s why we are so fabulous, we need to make up for everyone else.” 

“And we are very fabulous,” Min Hyuk confirmed. 

Yeong muttered something under his breath, but nobody caught what. “He agrees,” Chang Ho said, but Gon highly doubted it had been agreement. 

“Are pubs around here usually so quiet?” He asked the two men rather than engage in games of Guess If Yeong Was Rude. 

“At this time they are,” Chang Ho said. “It's too early in the day. People like to relax at home for a bit before heading out after work.” 

"It will be better in a few hours time," Min Hyuk added. "There's a really fun show starting at eight-thirty and it always gets the crowd loud and chatty, if you're looking for more people to talk to." 

"We aren't going to just wait around here until then, are we?" Yeong asked, looking very put off at the idea. 

"Is there anything to do around here?" Gon asked the two regulars, not much hope that there would be, not at this time of day. 

"Depends what you're into," Min Hyuk shrugged. "But this early a lot of places aren't open yet." 

"We could go back to the hotel," Yeong said hopefully. "I need a new shirt anyway, and you can read more comments about yourself." 

Tempting, on both fronts. Yeong looked like an uncoordinated slob who didn’t deserve the immense pleasure of standing so close to the King, and who knew how many comments there were to catch up on. "I suppose it would be better than just hanging around aimlessly," Gon conceded. 

Yeong looked very relieved, and Min Hyuk pouted at him. 

"That eager to get away from me?" He latched onto Yeong's arm again, head on his shoulder. "We could spend a few hours together, ditch the third wheel." 

"Hey!" Gon snapped. "I am not, and never will be, a third wheel. I'm the first wheel. I'm the first wheel of a Lamborghini." 

Yeong untangled himself from Min Hyuk and looked at Gon with pleading eyes. "Hotel. Please." 

"Let's go," Gon said decisively, grabbing Yeong's wrist and leading him away from that disrespectful menace. "He'll try to marry you if we don't leave now." 

"Hey, that's not a bad idea!" Min Hyuk called after them. "Hit me up once you get bored of him, sugar-bear!" 

"He'll never get bored of me!" Gon shouted back, reaching the exit and grabbing the handle. 

“Wait! You never introduced yourself!” 

Smugly, Gon replied across the room, “No, I didn’t,” then he threw open the door and dragged Yeong outside into the chilly winter air. "Call a taxi," Gon ordered. 

Yeong got out his phone, not giving the pub a look back. 

He seemed grateful to be out of there, and to be honest Gon was happy for the break too. As used to crowds and interested parties as he was back in the Kingdom, it was so foreign here. And they were for such a different reason. The crowd earlier, and Min Hyuk and Chang Ho, didn't treat him like some untouchable object to be admired (or hated) from afar, but more as a person. Someone approachable, non-threatening. He didn’t really know how to handle it. From the age of eight he was treated as the crown, rather than a human being wearing it. People had stopped touching him (though at the time, trauma prevented that from being a hardship), had stopped joking with him, the other children had stopped playing with him, and his toys were replaced with books. 

(With the exception of one, a cheap light up plastic sword that Yeong cherished as if it were more reverent than the Four Tiger Sword.) 

It was truly a pleasant change of pace, but still so different. It was something he'd have to adapt to if this unexpected viral fame didn't die down before he returned to the Kingdom. Although he wasn’t entirely sure if he could, or how to. 

What strange times. It was not a situation he ever could have imagined landing himself in. 

He was thankful that he had Yeong here by his side. He'd been next to him so much, for so long, he was almost like an extension of Gon himself. Someone he could rely on to always be there, to always have his back, to never let him down. The one person who reached out to him at the same moment everyone else drew away. A little four year old boy with the confidence to approach the unapproachable King. 

Yeong had crossed an entire universe for him, just because he didn't want Gon alone in possible danger. And it was honestly something hard to truly comprehend, far beyond the scope of mathematical equations and scientific wonderings, because how did you thank a person for that? How did you thank a person for being everything for you? A rock, a friend, a home, a constant companion, a protector, _family_ , a person who you just instinctively knew you could rely on for the rest of your life better than you knew your own heartbeat. 

Yes, the King was so happy to have Yeong in his life. There were so few people he could trust, even his own surviving family caused him to wonder at their loyalty sometimes. Never Yeong though, the King had never once doubted Yeong's loyalty, his devotion to him. 

A taxi pulled up beside them, and even now Yeong discreetly checked over the driver, his eyes scanning for any concealed bulks in his clothing, cataloguing areas inside the car where a weapon could be stashed. Had this been the Kingdom of Corea he'd have searched the driver and his car, but for now it was with reluctance that he allowed Gon to slip inside and followed. During the ride back to the hotel his gaze didn't wander from the driver, keeping an ever-careful eye on him. 

It must get tiring at times, Gon thought, always having to be on guard. Always looking for danger. It was a wonder the Captain wasn't more paranoid than he already was. 

It wasn't something he could shut off, Gon knew. Protecting his King was as ingrained into Yeong as breathing was. 

Sometimes, Gon wondered what it would be like if Yeong had never joined the Royal Guard. They wouldn't get to see each other as often, most likely very rarely, but what would their relationship be like if it didn't carry the barrier of King and Guard? Would they be closer friends? Would Yeong feel more okay with being open to him? 

It was a sad thing that Yeong would keep things tightly locked up inside his chest due to his strong sense duty, an onus he put on himself, closed off from Gon because it was his duty to keep him safe from all things. And for Yeong, his dear, thoughtful Yeong, that wasn't just physical harm, but emotional and mental too. 

Didn't Yeong need to vent, as well? Gon dearly wished that he would sometimes. That he'd tell Gon about his crappy days, the things that worried him, when he missed his family. Instead, it was a guessing game with him. Gon would have to go through a list, waiting until Yeong would give an unconscious tell when he'd hit the mark. 

Then Gon would do what he could. He'd give Yeong a day off to visit his mother or father. He'd send a threat to whoever was making his Captain's day harder. He'd tell Yeong not to worry, because he had this, there was nobody more capable in the Kingdom than Jo Yeong. 

And it was true. When he put his mind to it, Yeong defeated every problem that came his way. Often through sheer stubbornness than anything else. But placing any kind of burden on others was not Yeong’s modus operandi. If only he’d see that it wasn’t a burden, that Gon welcomed his plights and wanted to do what he could to lessen them. 

They arrived at the hotel, and Yeong got out first, surveying the area with practised ease. Gon stepped out behind him after paying the driver, and side by side they entered the lobby. There was a private lift to their suite, so the ride up was quiet, each keeping to their own thoughts. 

Once arrived, Gon headed for the living-room while Yeong changed into a clean shirt and then went to the kitchen to get them coffees. 

Happily back on the comfiest sofa ever made, Gon brought out his phone. He looked up the definition of twink, screwed up his nose at what he read, and then with a huff searched for the video of himself. There were some new articles on the clip. From what he’d seen the majority kept a neutral stance on the matter. Some were negative, and a small handful positive. The common denominator between them was the lack of mentioning anything about the murders. They should, they all should, Gon thought. If gay men were being killed, why would somebody preaching equality not be connected by the news? 

He wondered if gay people in his Kingdom felt the same way the gay people of the Republic did. Unseen, overlooked, unwanted. He thought he'd been a good King, one who looked out for his subjects, all of them, but perhaps not. 

He looked over at the sound of footsteps, and with a little smile Yeong handed him a coffee. 

"Thanks," the King said, accepting it. 

If Yeong really was gay, did he feel like that? Is that why he'd never told Gon? Did he think Gon would shun him? No longer care about him? See him as less than what he is? 

"Yeong, you're my best friend," he said. Yeong blinked in surprise, looking at him with something close to wonderment. Gon continued, as earnest as he’d ever been, "I don't think I've said it before, which I am regretful about, but nobody is dearer to me than you. I will always be thankful that you chose to stay at my side all these years. That you choose to put up with all the madness being my friend brings. So, thank you, Jo Yeong." 

Yeong looked momentarily lost for words. But his expression turned into a small, soft smile, the fingers of both his hands curling around the warmth of his cup. "I would never want to be anywhere but wherever you are. You're my best friend too, always have been." 

A warmth that wasn’t caused by the coffee spread through Gon, blooming something bright and jubilant. He thought of Yeong’s hidden plights again, the worries he kept locked away, and briefly Gon thought about asking him one more time about his sexuality, but swiftly brushed it aside. If Yeong is gay, Gon decided that he’d let him tell him in his own time. For now, perhaps he should stop getting in Rainbow Hooker’s way. They seemed to like each other. It was a shock how much that thought bothered Gon, but he pushed it down. He shouldn’t be jealous about Yeong having other people in his life. As much as he’d joke about it, Yeong did not belong to him, and he deserved to be happy. 

“So, today hasn’t gone too badly. At least so far,” Gon ventured, patting the sofa to indicate to Yeong to sit beside him. “Rainbow Hooker is obviously into you, and you only almost died once.” 

Yeong groaned, taking the seat. “Please don’t bring either of those things up.” 

“I don’t know,” Gon said, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and crossing his long legs over Yeong’s lap. Yeong looked at them, looked at Gon, looked back at the legs. He didn’t complain. “I guess he’s nice looking if you’re into men.” 

“He’s a prostitute,” Yeong replied, slowly, spelling it out as if Gon was a child. You probably shouldn’t talk to children about prostitutes, though. 

“How judgemental,” Gon said mock sternly, wiggling his toes in Yeong’s face. “Are you saying you think he’s diseased?” 

Yeong shoved his feet back down to his lap. “That’s not what I said, but probably,” he shrugged. “Why are you brining him up?” 

“No reason.” Gon took a sip of his coffee, pointedly looking down at his phone. “Just an interesting guy, I guess.” 

Yeong hummed noncommittedly, and drank his own coffee. One of his hands rested on Gon’s shins, a patch of warmth the King welcomed. 

“They all liked you,” the Captain said after a minute of calm silence. “I’m surprised that you responded so well.” 

Gon looked up from his phone, cocked his head, raised an eyebrow. “Were you expecting me to treat them badly?” 

“No,” Yeong was quick to say, picking at Gon’s trousers. “Just... different.” 

Gon frowned into the dark liquid inside his cup. It was the same shade as Yeong’s eyes. The moment felt monumental. Perhaps it wasn’t, perhaps it was just Gon dramatizing things as he was prone to do, but something deep and instinctual told him that how he replied could shape how Yeong saw him. 

“They aren’t different, not in any way that matters,” he said, slowly and carefully, sounding out the words one at a time. 

Yeong eyed him, no words spoken, then ducked his head towards his coffee with the tiniest of smiles. 

Gon removed his legs from Yeong’s lap, swung them around and sat up, contented next to Yeong, their shoulders only centimetres apart, their body heat radiating between the two of them. 

“The real issue is, why does everyone think I’m a bottom?” Gon glowered, thinking back to Chang Ho’s twink comments earlier and everyone’s general enthusiastic agreement. 

Yeong gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. “You’re tall and slim and pretty, while I’m broad and muscular and manly.” 

Gon knocked his hand off with a childish huff. “I’m the King! Nobody fucks me, I do the fucking. And I am manly!” 

“Of course, your Majesty,” Yeong replied placatingly, maybe a little condescendingly. Gon glared at him. 

“Everyone thinks you want me spanking you, so why am I the bottom? In fact, you _do_ want me spanking you.” 

Yeong blushed a little, looking away. “I think they’ve decided you’re what's called a... er, power bottom. ...Your Majesty.” The words sounded hard to say, Yeong fighting to get them out as he refused to look at the King. 

“A what?” Gon asked, baffled. 

His Captain let out a nervous laugh, his eyes flicking to the side and looking near to panic (and Gon would know after these past few days), but keeping it under control. Maybe the King should take his shirt off, because apparently Yeong couldn’t keep any secrets around half-naked men. He shuffled nearer to Yeong, making a point to show off his superior height even sitting down by leaning down to his eye level, and cocked his head to one side. He took both their cups and placed them on the coffee table, making sure Yeong had no distractions. Yeong looked at the King’s bare feet next to his own. 

“...Never mind, your Majesty, you don’t need to know.” Yeong also shuffled, but away from Gon rather than towards him, a look of deep embarrassment clouding his face. Gon followed him until Yeong had hit the armrest with nowhere else to go, Gon practically looming over him. Yeong hesitated, looked around the room, glanced at Gon for the most fleeting moment humanly possible, and said, “If it makes you feel better, your Majesty, the Kingdom almost unanimously agrees you top.” 

“It does make me feel better,” The King replied happily, satisfied enough with that and pulling away from where he’d been caging in Yeong. Clearly the Kingdom was the superior intellect, and the Republic was like the slow little brother who needed help with basic maths homework. But he gave Yeong a suspicious look, leaning in again even closer, so close he was half on top of him and their noses were almost touching. Yeong’s look had been turning to relief, but now it was back to trepidation. “And how do you know that?” 

Yeong blenched, apparently not having thought before he spoke. “I, er, that is to say, I...” He closed his eyes, took a breath, and the King watched him very closely. “You remember how the palace made me sign up to social media? People... don’t really keep their thoughts to themselves when they are anonymous.” 

True, but also a load of rubbish. 

“You’ve read GonJo fanfic, haven’t you?” Gon asked plainly, taking no mercy on him. Their noses briefly bumped. 

Yeong’s full body cringed, like if he tried hard enough he’d cringe himself away into nothingness. Or at least out from under the King. “...No?” 

Gon was immediately pointing at him accusingly, and Yeong leaned back over the armrest as much as his spine would allow. “There you go again with that no! Do you have any idea how obvious your lies are? How did you become the youngest ever Captain of the Royal Guard when you can’t even tell a simple lie?!” 

“I can lie!” Yeong defended, looking very put upon beneath his pathetic attempt to escape. “I’m just not good at lying to _you_.” 

“So you admit to the fanfic?” Gon questioned, looking at him sternly. 

“I... no... I just...” Yeong bit his lower lip, took a calming breath, and muttered. “It's just _there_ on the internet, and I was so curious.” 

“So...” Gon asked leadingly, and Yeong looked back with hesitant confusion. 

“So what?” Then added on a hurried, “your Majesty.” 

Gon gave him a look like it was obvious, because clearly it was. Honestly, Yeong was being very slow recently. Usually he kept up with the King’s maze of thoughts better than anyone else in the Kingdom. Was there something in the air in the Republic? “Who topped?” 

Yeong looked like he wanted to die. Just have a heart attack on the spot and drop dead where he laid. In fact, given the pained look radiating not just from his facial expression but his entire aura, he quite possibly was having one. 

“I... I didn’t read that sort of, I wouldn’t, I-” 

“No?” Gon questioned, leaning in very close and personal, invading Yeong’s personal space without a hint of hesitation, their stomachs and lower chests pressed together. He could feel Yeong’s body heat, hear his breathing quicken, and he swore he could hear his heartrate pick up, but that must just be the King’s imagination. “Are you sure, Yeong?” 

Yeong’s otherwise rapid breathing hitched at his name, his eyes repeatedly darting between the King’s eyes and lips. 

“I...I... Yes, your Majesty.” 

If Gon didn’t back away within the next five seconds, it was likely he’d need to appoint a new Captain of the Royal Guard. That would be tiring and irksome, so for his own sake only (or so he told himself) he pulled back, put enough distance between them for Yeong to sit up. He was such a great and thoughtful King. 

“You know,” Gon said concentratedly, “Maybe we should be boyfriends.” 

Yeong’s jaw dropped. “W-What?” 

“Nobody believes us that we aren’t, and if we keep telling people that, they might close off. Did you see how open everyone was earlier? We’re one of them, now. We’ve successfully infiltrated their ranks.” 

“We haven’t gone undercover in the mafia,” Yeong replied, flummoxed by everything that was happening. 

“Shh.” Gon said, putting a finger to Yeong’s lips. Yeong went cross-eyed looking at it. “Play along. When will I ever get to go undercover again? This is my one opportunity.” 

Gon’s brows knit together in befuddlement, because Yeong seemed to have forgotten to breath. He took his finger away, and Yeong’s chest heaved. 

There was a knock on the hotel room door. A loud, banging knock like whoever was on the other side was not pleased. The two shared a startled look, completely thrown by this unexpected turn, then in a flash Yeong was all punctilious business, headed for the door while pulling his gun from his waistband. Gon trailed along behind him, and the Captain glared and motioned him back. Gon, of course, ignored him. Grumbling to himself, Yeong positioned himself between the door and the King to act as a human shield, and peered out the peephole. He put away his gun and pulled a face like he’d seen something disappointing and disagreeable, and now Gon was very curious. 

“It’s Jo Eun Seob,” Yeong said, and from all the enthusiasm he mustered he might as well be announcing that he had a mere month left to live. 

Brightening up, Gon casually pushed Yeong out the way and threw open the door. He expected smiles and silly faces, what he got was a stern finger in his face and scowl. He and Yeong had never looked more identical than they did in this moment. For a crazy couple of seconds, Gon thought there must be two actual Yeongs rather than merely doppelgängers. 

“You! King Arthur! What did you do?” Ah, there was that accent. He sounded even sillier when mad. 

In a moment Yeong had Eun Seob pinned against the wall, arm twisted painfully behind his back and Eun Seob was yelping. “Ow! Ow! Ow! You’re so mean! Ow!” 

“Yeong, let him go,” Gon ordered, and it was with obvious reluctance Yeong did, but not before giving him one last hard shove into the wall. The Captain stepped back, and Eun Seob was immediately pouting and rubbing his twisted arm. 

“You should keep him on a chain,” Eun Seob grumbled, sticking his tongue out at his much more violence-prone double when the Captain glared at him. 

“What are you doing here?” Yeong demanded. 

“What am I doing? What have _you_ been doing? Everyone thinks I’m gay!” Eun Seob waved his arms about dramatically. “On my way to the police station this morning someone threw a drink on me from their car! At the police station Shin Jae bunglingly tried to congratulate me on coming out, and it was the most awkward experience of my life! And the chief has been avoiding me all day! And worst, my mum text, saying we need to talk! _Talk!_ Everyone knows that isn’t a good word!” 

“ _That_ is the most awkward experience of your life?” Yeong asked in disbelief. 

“That’s what you pick out from that?” Eun Seob replied, outraged. ”And YES! What else would it possibly be?” 

“I don’t know,” Yeong shrugged. “Your entire life?” 

Gon couldn’t entirely hold back his laugh, a little chuckle breaking free, and Eun Seob turned his glare on Gon. Unfortunately for him, Gon had built up an immunity to glares on that face. They were only cute now. 

“Just answer me! What have you been doing?!” He pointed an accusing finger at Yeong. “What has he been doing with my face?!” 

The King and his guard shared a look, unsure how much to divulge. Eun Seob looked between them, waiting for somebody to say something. Apparently though he’d reached his limit on how angry he could stay, and his glare turned into a sullen pout. Well that didn’t last long. “Hey, come on,” he whined. “Answer my question. Why does everyone think I’m gay?” 

“None of your business,” Yeong said dismissively, and Eun Seob made a gesture at him he’d never dare make in front of his mother. 

“I’m not asking you, am I? I’m asking King Arthur.” 

Gon thought of Tae Eul’s plea to not tell anyone about what they were up to. He also looked at the coffee stain that stretched most of the length of Eun Seob’s shirt (coincidently reminiscent of Yeong earlier), obviously the drink some dirtbag had thrown on him. Hadn’t Tae Eul specifically said not to tell her chief? She didn’t mention Eun Seob. The detective really should be more careful with her wording. It would likely make her mad initially, but he was sure she’d understand. After all, Eun Seob was far too cute to stay angry because of. Besides, even if she did try to scold him, he had the very real excuse that this effected Eun Seob merely by virtue of sharing Yeong’s face. If his team at the station had seen the video, and some stranger in a car had recognised ‘his’ face, then there was no way of entirely keeping him out of it. Therefore, it only made sense to let him in on their little mission. 

Rather than explain it, Gon figured it would be easier to show him. He got up the video on his phone and passed it to the younger man. 

Eun Seob watched silently besides a few “oh”s and “oo”s and gasps, but his facial expressions were ever changing. In the few minutes the video lasted, he very likely went through more visual emotions than Yeong had in the past decade. It was fascinating to watch that face be so expressive. 

Eun Seob blinked after it was over, staring at the phone blankly for a few more seconds as he absorbed what he’d just witnessed. “Oh,” he said. With a look of confusion, he continued, “But why were you at...” Some kind of comprehension dawned on him, and he was pointing an assuming finger at Yeong. “That’s why you don’t have a girlfriend! I thought it was because you’re a bad tempered loser, but you like men!” 

Yeong jerked forwards to hit him again but Gon grabbed him by the back of the collar to hold him in place, as Eun Seob stumbled backwards with a yelp of fear. But once he was sure Gon had a hold of him, Eun Seob plucked up his courage and continued. “It explains why you believed me when I said I had a boyfriend, I thought you were just gullible and a bit dim.” Gon looked from Eun Seob to Yeong with interest at that. Yeong flushed, avoiding the King’s gaze. Doubly interesting. One more mark in the ‘Yeong Is Gay’ category. (So far there was just one in the ‘Yeong Is Straight’ category, and that’s only because women really like hitting on him). Would it be unusual for parallel selves to have different sexualities? Was it like with identical twins – rare, but not unheard of? It was all very fascinating and he’d love to run an experiment on how doppelgängers matched and differed. 

Now, however, was not the time. 

“No fighting,” Gon ordered, aimed mainly at Yeong. “Get along nicely or you’ll both be beheaded.” 

“You’re gay too?” Eun Seob asked, turning his gaze to Gon. “I totally thought you and Tae Eul had a weird, slightly violent flirty thing going on.” He pouted at the idea of being wrong, lamenting the fact that working at a police station hadn’t honed his skills of perception. 

“Sorry, Eun Seob, you’re not Sherlock Holmes,” Gon confirmed for him. “I’m not gay, though. And Tae Eul is far too scary to date. Have you met her? There is a reason she’s still single.” 

“She isn’t scary! Well, maybe a little. But only when she gets mad!” Eun Seob defended. Poorly. At least he tried, it's putting in the effort that really matters. He gave them a suspicious look. “But if you’re not dating, what’s going on then?” 

“My God, he’s slow isn’t he?” Yeong said with disgust. “How is he me? What went so wrong in my life that this happened?” 

Gon bit his thumb to keep from laughing, and Eun Seob’s jaw dropped in outrage. “I’m the awesome one! I’m the cool big brother! You just follow orders and insult people!” 

“You don’t need my input, your existence is an insult to yourself,” Yeong quipped. 

“Waa,” Eun Seob gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “You are seriously mean. You’re only hurting yourself, you know. Literally.” 

Yeong was out of Gon’s grip and they were in each other's faces again. Eun Seob cowered a little, but Yeong didn’t move to grab him, just stared him down. After a few moments of assessing the situation, Eun Seob matched him face to face, both with narrowed eyes. 

“I’m just... so handsome,” Eun Seob said emotionally, staring at Yeong. 

“Yes,” Yeong agreed easily, like it was the single most obvious fact any human could arrive at. 

Gon rolled his eyes. Not this again. Vain narcissism was _his_ forte, they should get their own damn gimmick. 

“OK, I’m going to get a drink,” the King declared. Much to his ire neither paid him any mind, and so it was with a huff of irritation Gon sulked off to the kitchen (he’d say proudly strode, but as established he’s a little narcissistic). Without Yeong to force the coffee machine into submission, he had to settle for a bottle of water. He’d barely drank a quarter of it before loud noises started coming from the living-room. With a put-upon sigh, Gon went to check Eun Seob wasn’t dead or maimed. 

He paused at what he walked in on. The two were fighting again; Yeong had Eun Seob pinned to the sofa, one hand twisted in his rumbled shirt now missing a few buttons, and Eun Seob’s hands were on Yeong’s shoulders to keep him back. If he didn’t know they were fighting, this scene could look _very_ different. 

“I know that it's important to love yourself,” Gon jest, “but this is a bit extreme.” 

Eun Seob spluttered while Yeong rolled his eyes and pulled away from his double, getting to his feet off the sofa. 

“We weren’t doing anything like that!” Eun Seob protested, voice high and accent strong. 

Gon parted his hands as if gesturing for peace. “It may be a little unorthodox, but as the great philosopher Whitney Houston once said; learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.” 

He neatly dodged the shoe Eun Seob took off and threw at him. The one Yeong threw (which he also took off Eun Seob, almost causing him to topple over but showing not a hint of concern) hit him square in the forehead. 

“Hey! Don’t throw things at me! I’m your King!” Gon yelled indignantly, rubbing at the sore spot. That had better not bruise or Yeong was getting beheaded. Burned and then beheaded, the witch! 

Eun Seob’s phone beeped with a text, and his face turned white when he looked at it. “Oh no,” he moaned. “It’s my mum. She wants _the talk_.” He said the word very ominously, giving Gon a run for his money in the dramatics department. He was pulling at his already unruly hair, making it stick up in every direction. “What am I going to say to my parents?” 

Gon put his hands on the panicking man’s shoulders. “Relax. Just tell them that you’re doing some undercover work for the police.” 

Eun Seob stilled, then looked up at him in wonder, like an impressed kid with a cool uncle. “Is that what you’re doing?” 

Gon nodded, eating up the admiration. “We’re after the killer targeting gay men.” 

“Waa,” Eun Seob bounced excitedly, clapping his hands together. “That’s so cool!” He held out a hand like a gun, one eye closed, taking aim (Yeong scoffed at the action, personally insulted how wrong that was). “I’ve always wanted to go on an undercover mission to catch the bad guy. It sounds so fun!” 

His phone beeped again, but he didn’t look concerned this time. “I’m going to tell my parents I’m undercover! So cool!” With a happy giggle he ran off, slamming the door shut behind him, gone as suddenly as he had arrived. He'd forgotten his shoes, running off only in his socks. Yeong carelessly kicked them into a corner.

“Well that was a whirlwind,” Gon remarked, staring at the closed door. Yeong grunted uncommittedly and sat down. 

“I don’t understand why you like the brat so much, your Majesty. He’s an annoying little bug.” 

Gon grinned at him, knowing better. “Don’t bother trying to pretend you don’t like him. I know you do.” 

Yeong scoffed, but noticeably didn’t deny it. 

“Getting back to the matter at hand, before Eun Seob interrupted us,” Gon said, standing before Yeong, hands on his hips, “I genuinely think it will be beneficial to the case to simply let people assume we are a couple.” 

Yeong looked up at him, expression leaning towards pleading. “I’m sure there is no need to, your Majesty. I’ll find him, I swear. We don’t have to continue this charade.” 

“But it's fun,” Gon said. “And I want to.” 

Yeong looked like he’d been officially reprimanded, something which was a very rare occurrence for him. “Perhaps you should think it through a little more, you Majesty. You should be concentrating on the traitor. You are putting yourself at risk in a world not yours, for a country not yours. What would happen if you were injured?” 

“Don’t tell me what I shouldn’t and shouldn’t be doing,” Gon said, and he said it lightly, but coming from the King it was still an order. 

Yeong lowered his head in deference. 

“Well, there’s nothing else for it,” Gon said decidedly, standing straight and tall, like he was engaging with the military rather than proposing a fake relationship. “We shall just have to be boyfriends.” 

“I think I need to sit down,” Yeong said quietly, looking very pale. 

Gon’s brow furrowed. “You are sat down.” 

“Oh,” Yeong replied absently. “That’s good then.” 

The King sat next to him, shoulders touching, and leaned their heads together. “Want to go on a date, dear boyfriend?” 

“To catch a serial killer.” The Captain griped moodily. 

“Could there possibly be a better date?” Gon batted his eyelashes at him, and Yeong shoved him away. 

“Romance is dead,” Yeong stated. 

*** 

_‘This is completely immoral! My daughter saw this video! Why is it even allowed? It should be taken down immediately. Reported.’_

_‘’Your Majesty?' What?’_

_‘No, seriously though, he’s hot.’_

_‘Cute couple!’_

_‘I feel badly for his parents. If that was my son, he wouldn’t be stepping foot in my house again!’_

_‘Pretty odd couple. I wonder if this is an everyday experience for them lol.’_

_‘Why is that one guy calling the other one your Majesty?’_

_‘I’m, like, 90% confused, 10% turned on.’_

_‘King!!!’_

*** 

It was eight-thirty-eight, and there was a noticeable difference even out on the street. Chatter, laughing, and music could be heard from out here, the pub’s windows lighting up the dark where the streetlamps failed to penetrate. Two men holding hands, already a little tipsy, passed by the Gon and Yeong, the sounds flooding out even louder when the couple opened to pub’s door, and dulling again as it shut behind them. 

“We should hold hands,” Gon said, reaching his out towards Yeong and wiggling his fingers invitingly. 

A few seconds went by, and this was really starting to get awkward with it just hovering between them like this, Yeong staring at it like he didn’t know what a hand was. 

“You’re supposed to take it,” Gon explained. “Palms together, fingers entwined; it's called holding hands and couples do it all the time. Have you somehow never seen this? A couple doing exactly that literally just walked by us.” 

Yeong looked from the offered hand to the King, and slowly, unsurely, shook his head. “I’m not holding your hand.” 

“Wow, rude. I’ve not got cooties, you know. Nobody passed the age of ten has cooties.” He rubbed his hand on his very expensive bespoke coat. “Is my hand clammy? I don’t get clammy, I’m a King.” 

“I just... I don’t want to.” 

Gon took his hand back. It felt awkward and useless at his side, like it was just dangling there purposelessly. “Fine. Let’s just go in.” 

He didn’t wait, simply trusting that Yeong would follow. 

Although louder than before, it wasn’t the obnoxious drumming beats of the club, but rather carefully balanced to allow talking mixed in with the music. There was a lot of good cheer, people laughing and talking amicably with each other. 

There were some women over on a stage area, except – no, not women. They were, what was the word? Drag queens, Gon’s mind supplied. Right. He’d seen an episode of that show while in America. Or two episodes... or two seasons... or all of them. It was strangely addictive. Lady Noh thought so too once he’d introduced her to it. He didn’t understand how they were Queens, though. 

Was this the show Min Hyuk told them about? A drag show? It must be, as they were up there entertaining the crowd. 

He looked around, seeing if he could spot Min Hyuk and Chang Ho but couldn’t. Maybe they weren’t here yet, or lost somewhere in the crowd by the stage. 

“Well, well, well,” a voice said into the microphone, and Gon looked up at the drag queen looking right back at him. “It looks like there’s a King amongst the Queens! I heard you were here earlier, and I’m very glad you seen you back.” 

Wow, ok, this attention was remarkably different from before; he'd been put on the spot before but never like this. Even Gon, in the spotlight since the moment of his birth, flushed. Yeong didn’t even pause, he ducked and ran away to the bar without regard for his King. The drag queen was smiling at Gon, eyes twinkling. 

“Who wants to get him up on stage?” 

Gon blenched. No, nonononono, he was not doing that. No way, not in a million years. But it appeared he had no choice as the excited crowd guided him towards the stage. He cast a desperate look at Yeong, wondering how he could have been so wrong about him. Yeong was a filthy traitor after all. Said filthy traitor gave him a helpless shrug from his place of safety. 

Before he knew it, Gon was on stage surrounded by drag queens cooing over him and arguing what outfit and wig would look great on him as the crowd shouted suggestions. Gon died a little inside. All he could do was be thankful that not a soul from the Kingdom would ever see their King in this position. 

“You’re a tall, handsome one, aren’t you?” The queen holding the mic said, looking him over approvingly. She looked out to the crowd. “Just my type.” She was met with cheers and shouts of agreement, and okay, at least everyone was appreciative of his flawless looks. 

With little choice, Gon spent the next ten minutes being poked and prodded and asked about himself. Thank whatever deity may be out there they didn’t try to dress him up, but he did now know what shade of foundation matched his skin tone, and what colour lipstick would be perfect on him. He also learnt that eyeliner is a terrifying torture device that he’ll have banned once he returned home. He’d see about adding it to the Geneva Conventions and bring it up at the United Nations. 

He escaped their long-nailed clutches as soon as he was able, rubbing at all the sticky make-up on his face and heading straight for the bar. He asked for whatever had the highest alcohol content and proceeded to glare vehemently at the traitor. Yeong carefully avoided his gaze. 

He downed his drink, and headed for the men’s room to wash his face. It was surprisingly hard to remove. What the hell did they make it from? The tears of new-born kittens? And why did women willingly do this to themselves every day? Was it a manifestation of some kind of messed up self-hatred? 

“Here,” a man at the sink said, holding out a bottle and some cotton wool. 

“What’s that?” Gon asked, taking them cautiously. 

“Make-up remover,” he said. “Water isn’t going to help much.” 

Relief hit. “Thanks,” he said greatfully, and the man gave him an amused smile. 

“Don’t worry about it. And keep the bottle. I have a feeling you may need it.” With that he was gone, and Gon sighed audibly. Why was he doing this again? 

He finished removing all the gunk off his face, made a lot easier now, and with resignation headed back out. Hopefully somebody could tell him something about these murders, even the smallest little detail. Surely he deserved it? He certainly felt like he’d earned it. 

Now that he had been accepted amongst them, it was surprising how many people were suddenly happy to talk to him. 

“It’s really awful,” a drag queen sighed ten minutes later, on a break from the show and sat with a glass of soju. She was running sharp, glittery red nails down her glass and Gon watched them, a little transfixed. “One of the guys, Nam Gi, was a regular here.” 

“Yeah, he was a pretty chill guy,” the barman added, setting down a glass by Gon. “Never caused any trouble. Usually came alone and left alone.” 

“Was he here the night he died?” Gon asked, and the drag queen poured him a shot. 

The barman nodded, grabbing a few dirty glasses from around them. “Yep. I served him a few drinks, I remember.” 

Gon looked at him in shock. Was he actually about to get somewhere with his inquires? “Did he leave alone that night?” He asked hurriedly. 

“My shift ended before he left,” the barman shrugged. 

Gon deflated in disappointment. Typical. But then the drag queen spoke up. 

“He didn’t,” she said, and Gon turned to her like he was looking at his saviour. “I was here that night too. He left with a tall handsome fella.” 

“Can you describe him?” He asked eagerly. 

Gon waited, anxiously, as she thought. “I was a little tipsy, so my memory may not be completely accurate, but I remember a green jacket, a high-bridged nose, and he was maybe about 185 centimetres.” 

Gon was practically on the edge of his seat. “Have you seen him here before or since?” He looked around for Yeong, who he knew would want to hear this too, but he’d made himself scarce. He’d better be in a dark corner somewhere agonising over how the King was going to punish him for this unforgivable transgression. 

“No, I tend to remember guys that good looking,” she gave a little laugh. “Why? You don’t think he could really be the killer, do you?” 

“It could be anyone,” Gon said with helpless little shrug. “Best not to rule anyone out, especially not strangers who suddenly appear and disappear with a victim.” 

“I guess... It's just so horrible to think about. Why Nam Gi? He didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“The police should be doing more to catch the bastard,” the barman said. “You know they haven’t even tried to interview anyone around here? Not that I want them skulking around my bar, but all they did was ask his family and roommate a few questions and left it at that. They don’t care. You know if it were straights being killed they’d be all over it, and it’d be the top story on every news channel.” 

“Amen to that,” the drag queen snorted, holding up her drink. “Police don’t give a shit about us.” 

Gon said nothing to that. Although a part of him felt a need to defend Tae Eul, he also realised it wasn’t his place to. These people were upset, and had every right to be so. 

Out the corner of his eye he spotted Yeong skulking around. Yeong caught his gaze, and Gon made a beheading motion. Yeong’s eyes widened and he ducked behind a pillar. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and speak of the devil. Tae Eul’s name was the caller ID. He excused himself from his present company and stepped outside to take the call. 

“Lee Gon,” Tae Eul said, her voice crackling over the line. “I’m at the police station now. Since your video was uploaded, we’ve been monitoring the comments coming in, particularly the negative ones. There was one in particular that was alarmingly aggressive. From the username we’ve been able to find an online blog, and we believe it may be the killer's.” 

Gon quickly nipped back inside and waved Yeong over to listen in. Understanding it was important from the King's body language, Yeong was quick to join him. 

“There are entries dating back almost a year. In the beginning, it's just frustration and rambling, but it as it goes on the writer is fantasising about committing violence. It gets disturbingly graphic. But recently, its different. He’s describing the crimes, with detail – details that haven’t been publicly released.” 

The two men shared a grim look. “He’s been building himself up to killing,” Gon summarized. 

“Exactly,” Tae Eul said. “But Gon... the reason why I rang this late instead of waiting until our next meeting... Well, the newest post is about you and Yeong.” 

His grip on the phone tightened, and beside him Yeong shifted restlessly. Gon knew his Captain’s mind would be racing with this new threat and how to keep his King safe from it, because Gon himself was now feeling regretful he’d dragged Yeong into this and his own mind was conjuring various ways to keep Yeong from being harmed. 

“What exactly did he post?” Yeong demanded, all business. 

“It's not very coherent,” Tae Eul said apologetically. “It seems he was very angry when he wrote it. But the gist is that he doesn’t like someone speaking up in favour of gay rights, or that the video has started a conversation on the matter. He’s making a lot of threats against you, Gon, and since he believes you’re his boyfriend, you too, Yeong. I'm pretty sure he plans on killing you both.” 

“Anything specific we can work with?” Yeong asked. “A method, a date, a place?” 

“Sorry, no. Just a lot of death threats, and if he really is the killer...” 

“He’ll be coming after us for sure,” Gon sighed. “Well, I suppose it's better he comes for us than a random civilian. At least we can protect ourselves and know to expect him.” 

“You’re sure it’s the same man?” Yeong asked. 

“Not one hundred percent,” Tae Eul said, “but as I said, he knows details about the murders that nobody outside our team knows. He can only know that if he’s the killer.” 

“Why do you have to get yourself into these situations, your Majesty?” Yeong groaned despondently. “Why can’t you just snort cocaine and spread around STDs like other rich kids?” 

Tae Eul’s laugh sounded more like a cackle over the phone. Witches. Witches everywhere. Gon would be setting alight at lot of pyers tonight. 

“With a nose that big you could be a snorting champion,” she added. 

“Aren’t you a police officer?” Gon countered. “I’ll report you to your chief. How dare an officer of the law encourage drug use.” 

“You do have a huge nose though,” Tae Eul said conversationally, taking his threat as seriously as Gon’s threats to behead Yeong. 

Snootily, Gon replied, “That just means that I have a big-” 

Yeong coughed, loudly and pointedly. 

“Dick,” Gon finished anyway. 

“Yeong, apparently you’re his boyfriend now – confirm or deny?” 

Gon turned to look at Yeong expectantly, waiting for his answer. Tae Eul waited too. It was almost as if she were stood out in the chilly night air with them, both of them staring the Captain down together. Yeong was fire-red. 

“I’m not talking about this,” he mumbled, looking away. 

“He knows it’s big, he’s seen me naked loads of times,” Gon said decisively. “He’s just embarrassed because mine’s bigger than his.” He held up a pinky and wiggled it in Yeong’s face. “Like that. Wait, Tae Eul can’t see – I held up a pinky.” 

Yeong turned back, outraged. “Mine is not that small!” He gathered himself, stood to his full height (easily still half a head shorter than Gon), and told Tae Eul, “His Majesty’s penis is mundanely average.” 

“Mundane?! Average?! How dare you, you’re getting castrated and then beheaded!” 

“Wow,” Tae Eul said over Gon’s outrage, sounding very impressed. “He’s so loyal he won't even say you have a tiny dick when you insult his. Average? Wow.” 

Yeong pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did we even get here? We were just talking about a serial killer coming after us. Does anyone remember that? Or find it to be in the least bit urgent?” 

“Bet the serial killer wouldn't say it’s average,” Gon grumbled, and Yeong rolled his eyes heavenward, as if asking for strength. 

“Yeong’s right,” Tae Eul said, voice back to professional. “Putting Lee Gon’s penis aside, we need to come up with a strategy to catch this guy.” 

“Could just let him trip over my dick, because its big enough,” Gon put in very helpfully. Yeong cuffed him around the head. “Beheaded!” 

“Is there a pattern to his kills?” Yeong asked Tae Eul, blanking the King much to Gon’s indignation. He’s the _King_ , nobody is allowed to ignore him without his permission. “A certain time frame between each one?” 

“Not that I can see.” Were they _both_ ignoring him? “The second was just over a month after the first, but the third three weeks later.” 

“Less time between each murder,” Yeong said. “He’s getting more confident.” 

“Very likely,” Tae Eul agreed. “Less empathic too. The more he kills, the less he’ll view his victims as people, if he even still does.” 

“Do his blog posts suggest he believes he’s fighting a worthy or righteous cause?” Yeong asked, and Gon expected more out of morbid interest than anything. 

“Definitely, he really doesn’t come across as mentally stable,” Tae Eul said, and the sound of clicking faintly travelled through the phone. “I’m sending you the link. Don’t do anything but read it; don’t reply or try to track him from it, we don’t want him catching on to us. If we can continue to read his thought pattern, we could figure out what he’s doing next.” 

“Understood,” Yeong said. Gon knew that tone, it was his ‘I agree only if the King tells me to agree’ tone. If he believed it would help keep Gon safe, he’d completely ignore Tae Eul without sparing her a thought. 

“We shouldn’t say too much over the phone,” Tae Eul said. “It will be better to go over everything and plan in person.” 

“Very well,” Gon said, feeling like he’d been quiet for far too long. It just felt _wrong_ when his voice wasn’t dominating any conversation he was part of. Plus, when he spoke others had the pleasure of listening to his voice. A win-win all around. “Yeong and I will go over the blog tonight and we can meet up to discuss plans tomorrow.” 

“Sounds good,” Tae Eul said around a yawn. “I’ve got a bit of work to finish up, then I’m collapsing into bed. 

“You should rest too, your Majesty.” Aww, its cute how Yeong cares about him. “You’re in dire need of some beauty sleep.” 

Gon flicked him on the forehead. 

“Right then,” Tae Eul said. “Gon, get your royal average dick to the chicken restaurant at noon tomorrow, and bring your pinky-dicked boyfriend with you.” 

She hung up abruptly, and both men were left looking at the phone in shocked outrage. “It's not average!” Gon shouted at the same time Yeong yelled “It's not small!” 

The silence seemed to mock them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Gon calls out the killer. Yeong is still a gay disaster.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I just wanted to apologise for taking so long to update. I hesitated a lot on writing this, but I want to give you an explanation to assure you that I have not lost interest in the story (or fandom), and that I have every intention of continuing it. Amongst other things happening that I won’t get into, my brother died recently. Due to dealing with that I’ve been lacking time and motivation to write. However, as I said I have every intention of finishing this story (and writing more) and I’m still enjoying writing it. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you understand.

The whole in the wall chicken restaurant was more crowded today than he’d seen it before, people packed in at every table like schools of fish swarming on a food source. It seemed to have hit its capacity and barrelled right along into fire hazard realm. The air was stuffy from too many people crammed into too small a space, with ovens going and hot food on every table. The yellowed walls had cracked and peeled even more in the heat, and the wet patches on various surfaces were quite likely the mixed condensation of multiple people sharing and rebreathing the same air due to poor ventilation. Gon hadn’t thought it could get any worse than he’d seen it before, and he was horrified to be proven wrong. If he left this place without having picked up some type of debilitating sickness it would be a miracle. 

“They have a special deal going on,” Tae Eul explained the crowd, taking a large bite of chicken, seemingly unconcerned of her surroundings, as opposed to Yeong who may have an aneurysm from trying to assess so many people crowded so close to the King. If they had been in Corea, he’d never allow Gon around such a densely packed crowd of unknowns – he'd bodily pull the King away if he had to. In Korea, however, where Gon was just another (extremely handsome) face in the crowd, he remained only on semi-high alert rather than his default ‘assassin incoming’. 

Over the chatter and clunking of the still unfixed dishwasher, it would be easy for their voices to become lost in the hum surrounding them if they weren’t all focusing on each other's words. 

Gon, perhaps unwisely, had his coat off and his sleeves rolled up; a look he’d been hesitant to take as he didn’t want to chance his arms touching anything unsavoury, but in the end the sweaty heat had won out. It was a risk he didn’t want to take, but had no alternatives. 

It was a damn good job the chicken was so delicious. 

“I want to burn this place to the ground,” Yeong gave voice to Gon’s thoughts, his sharp calculating eyes roaming around the room, likely taking in everything flammable and planning how best to light it up while leaving a safe exit route. He’d probably already finely tuned eight different plans. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Tae Eul said between partly chewed meat. “It’s not that bad.” 

Yeong gave a pointed look to the closest window, where two children seemed to be having a competition of who could lick it clean, and neither were winning. Then he drew their gazes to a waiter near the entrance to the kitchen digging in his ear canal, then flicking the wax onto the floor. Next were the ants dotted about the floor and a few tables, scurrying to and fro carrying crumbs back to their nest, which seemed to be located inside the toilets. (Gon would never dare venture into those toilets, not even if it would save Corea from famine and war. The horrors he’d be sure to find in there wouldn't be worth it. Sometimes war can be the lesser of two traumas.) 

“I don’t think arson would be enough,” Gon said. “You’d have to call in a priest for an exorcism first.” 

“You can tell you two grew up in a palace,” Tae Eul snorted, taking another chicken leg. “Man up, you’re acting like spoiled boys.” 

“We’re acting like twenty-first century men in a developed country,” Gon said loftily, looking down his nose at her. “Unlike you, you unhygienic caveman.” 

Holding Gon’s gaze like a tiny hairless gorilla asserting its dominance, her own eyes made of steel, Tae Eul slowly and deliberately ran her piece of chicken over the surface of the crusted table, over days (weeks?) old spills and murky fingerprints, then steadily put it in her mouth and ripped off a large chunk, lips pulled back to show off her teeth pulling bits of flesh away from bone. Gon looked away, feeling nauseous. Tae Eul laughed as if she’d gained some kind of victory, but the only thing she’d likely won was a disease. Yeong was looking at her like she’d just licked the floor, and it was close enough. 

“You are the most disgusting person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting,” Gon told her with revulsion, his nose scrunched up. Not only was her act repugnant, but how dare she commit such sacrilege upon the chicken. She’s a monster. Tae Eul just smiled at him sweetly, like the lady she never would be. 

“So,” She said after swallowing and taking a gulp of milkshake (Gon was certain she’d only chosen strawberry again so as to mock him that he couldn’t steal it, because what warped cretin likes strawberry _drinks?_ ). “How are you two finding couple life? Still in that honeymoon phase?” 

“Yeong won’t put out,” Gon said without missing a beat, giving a regrettable shake of his head and receiving an immediate glare from the man. 

“Sucks,” Tae Eul said, licking her fingers clean. “Virgin until marriage type? Better put a ring on it.” 

“Just a prude,” Gon sighed heavily. 

“Better put a cock ring on it, then,” Tae Eul said, and the man in question looked wholly unamused as Gon barked a laugh and the people at the table next to them shot them filthy looks. 

“I am sat right here,” Yeong scowled. “And I do ‘put out’, his Majesty just isn’t worth it.” 

Gon gave him his best offended look, and threw a small bone at him that Yeong caught with ease. 

“How dare you. Everyone wants a piece of this,” Gon gestured to himself like he was opening an art exhibition, which in his mind was a pretty damn accurate comparison. “Tell him, Tae Eul.” 

“Nah,” the detective rebuffed with casual ease. “I’d pass.” 

Gon crossed him arms and looked between the lunatics, because that’s what they must be if they’d pass on tapping this. “You are both clearly insane and in need of immediate psychiatric help.” 

“You’re right,” Tae Eul said, deadpan. “You’re actually exactly what I’m looking for in a man: humble, no ego, responsible with money, great impulse control, the list goes on.” 

“Exactly,” Gon said, completely ignoring the ocean of sarcasm and choosing to understand it in a way that benefited him. “I’m all of those things and more.” 

The two people sat with him rolled their eyes simultaneously. 

Tae Eul looked to Yeong. “Have you really put up with this since you were _four_? And you haven't committed regicide? You must have the patience of Buddha.” 

“I’m a joy and a pleasure to be around,” Gon interrupted snootily. “I’m positively radiant.” 

“Positively full of yourself,” Tae Eul counted. 

“Yeong would like to be full of me.” 

Tae Eul inelegantly snorted out a sudden laugh this time, while Yeong was bright red and glaring at the King. “Stop making jokes like that.” 

Ignoring him, Gon leaned in closer to Tae Eul, as ready to gossip as a high school teenager who’d seen the popular kid getting off with the spotty nerd. “Right, get this, he thinks if we had sex _he’d_ top! How ridiculous is that?” The King laughed like it was one of the most absurd things he’d ever heard. 

Rather than joining in Tae Eul looked from one to the other, and gave a noncommittal shrug. “I guess I could see it both ways.” 

Gon pulled back, wrinkling his nose. “Pfft, yeah right. I’m bigger, and older, and the King.” He waved a hand at Yeong, “He’s short and likes to follow orders.” 

“I’m not short, you’re just a giraffe,” Yeong defended scathingly, and honestly nobody’s angry face should look that cute. Gon just couldn’t take him seriously. “And I do my job. Responsibly. A word you never learned.” 

“’Job’ or ‘responsible’?” Tae Eul asked, and now it was Yeong’s turn to laugh. 

“Treason,” Gon sing-songed. “I’ll have you thrown in prison. Both of you.” 

“You’re his King, not mine,” Tae Eul was quick to counter with a smug smile and a sip of strawberry, as if to really rub it in. 

“I would invade this entire world solely so you’d have to call me ‘your Majesty’,” Gon said, pointing a chicken bone at her. “I’d make you my personal servant. No, the court jester.” 

Tae Eul raised her eyebrows. “You want me to put on a red nose and start juggling?” 

“There’d be no need,” Gon said with a look of self-satisfaction. “Your face would be sufficient as it is.” 

Tae Eul kicked him under the table, and Gon let out a dramatically loud noise of pain, rubbing at his leg and getting a few curious looks from the tables closest. “Yeong, she assaulted the King, execute her.” Yeong just watched an ant crawl by his section of the table. 

A giggle came from nearby, and Gon’s eyes drifted towards it. 

There was a boy, maybe about six, sat two tables away watching him, snot dribbling from one nostril. The fly that seemed to be a permanent resident was buzzing around his food, but he took no notice, looking between the three of them slack jawed as the snot slid under his upper lip. His parents paid no attention to their child or surroundings, both buried in their phones. 

Gon was doing his best not to look, because it was disgusting. In an attempt to get him out of view he leaned back, but the kid mimicked him to keep in his line of sight. He giggled again, which to Gon’s horrified disgust formed a snot bubble that popped over his face. He leaned forwards, and his snotty little mirror did the same. 

“Why are you rocking back and forth?” Tae Eul asked. “Sit still.” 

“You sit still,” he snipped back to the woman who wasn’t moving. Tae Eul rolled her eyes, a habit she’d picked up after meeting the King. 

Gon looked at the boy’s parents, wondering if they were going to give their crotch goblin a talk about stranger-danger, but they were in a world of their own. Anybody could snatch that kid right from his seat and they probably wouldn’t notice. Though Gon couldn’t imagine even the most depraved criminal would want that gross child near them. 

“Yeong,” the King said authoritatively, “move further left, and closer to the table.” 

Yeong didn’t even bother to question him, he was too used to random demands from the King and just did as he was told. 

“No, further. Closer to the table.” He made Yeong keep shuffling his chair until his legs were pressed uncomfortably against a leg of the table, digging into his knees and most likely cutting off some circulation. Well, they’d go numb soon so it wasn’t a big deal. The Captain was apparently not in agreement going by the lingering dirty look he was giving Gon, but so long as Yeong’s body was blocking the view of that snot nosed creature, his temporary discomfort was something the King could live with. 

But the boy shuffled his own chair back so he could continue staring at Gon. Gon made a face at him, and a rude gesture with his hand. The boy didn’t react, just continued sitting, mouth gaping, snot dripping into it. The fly flew up to investigate, precariously close to his lips. 

“Sit at the table!” His mother finally snapped, glancing up from her phone only long enough to drag the chair back, much to the King’s relief. The boy disappeared back behind Yeong, and the mother went straight back to her phone. The father seemingly noticed nothing. 

Gon was never, ever having kids. Screw the line of succession. He’d crown that fly King of Corea before he’d deal with that. 

Speaking of the fly, it had abandoned its booger adventure at the woman’s shout and was now coming over. It landed on Yeong’s head, zeroing in on him like a H pad and sitting precariously on the hardened strands, and Yeong didn’t notice. Gon wavered on telling him or not, leaning closer towards not and wondering if he could sneak a picture without Yeong noticing his phone. Probably not, that man had eyes like a hawk. The fly began furiously scrubbing its feet, apparently not a fan of how much gel Yeong smothered his hair in, and Gon smiled to himself in amusement. 

Then Yeong shifted in discomfort, his legs still pressed against the leg, and the fly immediately startled and took to the air. It flew off in the direction of the kitchen to vomit on people’s orders and spread disease. Maybe it was in cahoots with a local hospital. This whole chicken restaurant likely was, it was the only plausible explanation as to why and how it was still open and running. 

The three of them were going to die from this place, sooner or later, of that Gon was sure. The King looked up to the spot on the ceiling that had threatened to cave in the first time he was here. There was a water stain and growing mould directly over where he’d been sitting that day. 

Imagine that. The King of the Kingdom of Corea who grew up surrounded by luxury and wealth dying in a dump like this. Nobody would believe it. Conspiracy theories would be born. People would still be debating five hundred year from now how King Lee Gon truly died. 

Was the chicken worth it? Gon had weighed his options and decided: yeah, definitely. 

“Did you read over everything I sent last night?” Tae Eul asked, licking grease and sauce from her fingers. 

“Yes,” Yeong said. A plate of chicken was in front of him, but he hadn’t touched it. He hadn’t eaten anything at all. Apparently Yeong had higher standards than the King. 

“He’s batshit insane,” Gon added, taking a piece of chicken from the basket between them and putting it on his plate, because he’d already come to terms with the knowledge he was willing to sacrifice his health and his life for this. “And his grammar is so atrocious I’d argue it’s a worse crime than the murders.” 

Tae Eul gave him a flat look, entirely unamused, but Yeong’s lips twitched. Yeong understood, he likely had more paperwork so sort through in a month than Gon and Tae Eul had combined in three months. The King knew this because eight months after he’d been promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard, Gon had been bugging him about them not spending enough time together outside official duties any more, and Yeong had exploded into a twenty-two minute rant about how useless everyone was at filling simple forms in, how apparently nobody knew how to file, how clearly the Corean education system was appalling because nobody could spell, how much their utter incompetence added to his endless pile of paperwork, and how every office in the palace should just burn down. Nothing could stop that rant, not even the King’s order. (After his initial shock had worn off, and then his amusement at seeing his Unbreakable Sword so emotional and wound up, it had gotten boring fast, hence him abusing his Kingly powers – or attempt to abuse them, rather.) And that’s how Gon learned that being the Captain of the Royal Guard consisted of as much desk work as it did field work. 

“We need to come up with a plan to drawn him out, while also keeping the two of you as safe as possible,” the lieutenant said. 

“Well, that speech I gave certainly got his attention,” Gon shrugged. “I could just keep on pissing him off until he snaps and tries to kill me.” 

“Shouldn’t take long, about two hours?” Yeong said faux-contemplatively. “You are very annoying and endlessly frustrating.” 

“And that’s when he’s not trying,” Tae Eul added. “I’d hate to see him actually putting effort into it.” 

“I am not!” Gon defended hotly. “I’m lovable and charming, endlessly kind and boundlessly selfless.” 

Yeong motioned to his legs. “You have me sitting like this because you don’t want to look at a child.” 

That brought the King to a pause, but only for a moment before he sniffed dismissively, “A little discomfort is good for the soul. You’ve had worse.” 

Yeong raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “If that’s so, your Majesty, perhaps you’d like to spend some nights sleeping on the floor?” 

Damnit, he’d gotten him there. 

“... Just move, then,” Gon grumbled, silently cursing his defeat. 

Yeong did so with flourish, shaking out his aching legs and getting blood back flowing through them. As soon as he’d moved, the first thing Gon saw was that child licking at his snot trail while staring directly at him, as if he’d been lying in wait this whole time, like a spider curled up on its web. Gon was immediately shoving at Yeong with desperate, clumsy hands. “No, no, no, never mind. Stay where you were. Go back.” 

The look Yeong gave him could be classified as treason, and he became as immovable as a statue. Gon huffed, falling back into his chair, giving up on manhandling his Captain for now at least. “Go back to where you were and _stand_.” There, a compromise. 

Glaring the whole while but having no legitimate reason to disobey the King (such as going off on a rant, which apparently counted) Yeong got to his feet and took a step and a half to his left. The child disappeared and instead the King was looking at Yeong’s black-clad stomach. 

“See?” The Captain said, looking down on him literally and figuratively. “Annoying and frustrating.” 

“Yeah, well...” Gon looked Yeong up and down, trying to find something to insult him with back. It was right in front of his eyes. “You have a small waist! Like a woman.” 

Yeong was immediately looking self-conscious, his arms wrapping around himself. “I do not!” 

Tae Eul, very much _not_ an impartial judge for anyone or anything but her own amusement, gave his figure a critical look over, focusing from his broad shoulders and down to the swell of his hips, lingering for a few long seconds on his waist. “I guess it is a little small for a man,” she mused slowly, finger tapping at her lips. Yeong glared at them both, eyes full of outrage and betrayal. 

“All of me is manly! I work out every day!” 

“He’s so easy to tease!” Tae Eul laughed, lightly slapping Yeong on the stomach, and Gon grinned at her. 

“It’s fun, isn’t it? Nobody but Lady Noh ever joins in. Everyone back home is too scared of him because they don’t know the real him.” 

Yeong’s posture was defensive. “Because they know how manly I am!” 

“You get riled up so easily,” Tae Eul grinned up at Yeong. “It’s cute. Like a puppy growling.” 

Overjoyed to have a new Yeong-teasing partner, Gon really began to get into it. 

“You need to spend more time in the Kingdom to see what he’s really like, beneath the gruff exterior he puts on. He has all these cutesy stickers of him and the other Guards covering his laptop, and in his room he basically has an entire wall dedicated to his favourite girl group. One time I got one of the member’s name wrong and he refused to talk to me for the rest of the day.” 

(Now that he’s thinking about it, how in the Hell had he never questioned Yeong’s sexuality before?) 

While Tae Eul laughed Yeong angrily kicked his chair further away than it had been, pulled his coat on despite the sweltering heat and sat back down heavily, leaving the snot kid with a clear line of sight to Gon, causing the King to recoil. It was coming out of both nostrils now, and he had a finger up one. Gon shivered with disgust as the finger went into his mouth. He wasn’t as filthy as the table he was sat at, but he was close. 

He wanted to look _anywhere_ but at the kid, and for some godforsaken reason his brain chose Yeong’s waist again, now angrily tucked away behind his grey cashmere coat. 

Yeong had a nice waist, one that invited arms to wrap around it. 

“What?” Yeong asked. 

“What?” Tae Eul asked. 

“What?” Gon asked. 

Had he said that out loud? Oops. The King flushed. “I mean... I just meant that, you know, for some people. Some people would think that. People who want to... put their... arms around him.” 

_Wow, great save,_ a sarcastic part of his brain that sounded suspiciously like Lady Noh mocked him. Rude. He was going to have to have words with the Head Court Lady about planting the words of humility in his head. Gon and humility don’t mix, and opposite’s do not attract. 

He looked at his two companions. Yeong was looking away, a slight flush on his cheeks that wasn’t because of the heat. Tae Eul was gazing at him like he was a puzzle that came without rules or instructions, but she’d just begun figuring them out. 

“What?” He snapped at her, feeling a little self-conscious at the scrutiny. He’d most certainly killed the playful mood. Whatever. He’d only said that because Yeong’s waist was too small. It was Yeong’s own fault if Gon’s mind slipped to thoughts usually reserved for women. 

“Nothing,” Tae Eul said, shaking her head and turning her attention back to eating. After an awkward few seconds, she cleared her throat. “So, the killer. How should we play this?” 

Before Gon could come out with any suggestions, thankful for the change in subject, Yeong spoke up, apparently not satisfied without having the last jab. 

“Your roots are showing,” he said snidely to Gon, arms wrapping his coat around his waist tighter. “You look very unkept.” 

It was only through sheer discipline that Gon’s jaw didn’t drop. How _dare_ he? Gon’s appearance was never anything short of perfection. 

“How would you know? You can’t see that high, little man,” he shot back, then gave him his most condescending smile. “Would you like me to fetch you a ladder?” 

Yeong huffed loudly, hands curling into fists over his abdomen. “Clearly you are drastically less intelligent than you would have people believe, as if you had working brain cells you would realise I was just stood up.” 

Gon took a deep, angry breath. Now _that_ was taking it too far. He’d have him drawn and quartered! Insulting his appearance was pushing it, but his intelligence? “You listen here, you little-” 

“You guys are cute,” Tae Eul cut in, voice full of cheer. They both turned on her, objections flying from their mouths. This just seemed to amuse her more, and she snapped a photo on her phone. “For posterity's sake. You two are like an old married couple. I’m sending this to Eun Seob.” 

Eun Seob! Gon had almost forgotten about him. (Again.) 

“He came round yesterday,” the King said, deciding he’d deal with Yeong insubordination later. “He was upset because everyone thinks it’s him in the viral video.” 

Tae Eul cringed in her seat, looking guilty. “Yeah... I wasn’t there when he came in, but Shin Jae text me a whole lot of question marks and explanation marks asking how a room full of detectives didn’t know he’s gay.” 

“I didn’t think about him when I said I’d bring Yeong into this,” Gon confessed, looking a little guilty himself. “He took it okay though! He’s telling his parents he’s undercover.” 

“I didn’t either,” Tae Eul admitted, her expression then turning very doubtful. “He realises his parents know he isn’t a real detective, right? So they’ll know he can’t go undercover.” 

“Err...” Gon said, with about as much intelligence as Yeong had just accused him of having. Eun Seob probably wasn’t having the best time right now. He’d been so excited and happy too... 

Yeong rolled his eyes. “Who cares. Let’s get on with what we are here for.” 

It was cute how he insisted on pretending not to care. Gon put his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees (because he was _not_ putting them on that table), gazing at Yeong happily as he waited for him to do something else cute, but Yeong acted like he couldn’t see the King. 

“We need to share information and insights, plan an attack.” Yeong finished, angling his body away from Gon. 

Gon didn’t shift his position even when his words got serious. Yeong twitched, but didn’t turn around. “I was speaking with some people yesterday, and they said the night one of the victims – Nam Gi – died, he left with a man they didn’t recognise,” Gon told Tae Eul, reaching out a foot to nudge at Yeong’s thigh. Yeong swatted at his foot, and Gon dug his toes in. 

He could round back to Eun Seob later, and apologise when he next saw him, for now this was more important – both speaking with the detective and harassing Yeong. 

“Kang Nam Gi? You found out where he was that night?” Tae Eul looked very interested. For all she paid attention to their actions, Gon and Yeong may as well be sat ramrod straight, five feet apart. “Did you find out anything more?” 

“Not really,” Gon shrugged, wiggling his toes inside his shoes, causing Yeong to try to squirm away while attempting to maintain an air of dignity. It was tough going, and he failed spectacularly. “The man he was with was about 185 centimetres with a high-bridged nose, wearing a green jacket.” 

“I can try looking over CCTV,” Tae Eul said thoughtfully. “It’s not much to go on, but he’d stand out with his height. I’ll ask Shin Jae and Jangmi if the description matches the suspect they chased.” She tapped away at her phone for a good minute, and the two men occupied the time with their little game of cat and mouse. Gon ran his sole – that had tread all around this hovel’s filthy floor – over Yeong’s pristine trousers, and Yeong retaliated by slapping his ankle. “Nothing else was said? Nobody recognised the unidentified man?” 

“I was only speaking to two people, and then you rang,” Gon said, not the slightest bit discouraged by the warning glare his Captain gave him. “Yeong and I can ask around more today.” 

“I should interview them,” Tae Eul said decisively. “Did you get their names? Or contact details?” 

Gon hesitated, his foot stilling as he thought back to what the barman and drag queen had been saying, what _everyone_ was saying, how they reacted to anything relating to the police. He pulled his foot back and placed it on the floor, and sat up straight with his hands on his knees, much to Yeong’s visible relief. “I... don’t think that’s the best idea, Tae Eul. Yeong and I will handle it.” 

“Nonsense. I’m a detective, I’m trained for this. I could come with you later, or you can get their numbers and pass them on,” Tae Eul said with single-minded determination. “Though actually, on second thought, going with you would be better as I can question more people.” 

“I really don’t think they want you questioning them,” Gon said bluntly. “They don’t trust the police. You said it yourself that they don’t want to give statements, that they wouldn’t trust you.” 

“I know they don’t want to risk being outed, but-” 

“It’s more than that,” Gon interrupted with an amount of passion that surprised himself. “They feel as though the police don’t give a damn about them, that they are putting in only the minimal amount of effort they can get away with. They said nobody cares when gay people are killed, least of all cops.” 

“That’s not true!” Tae Eul immediately defended with heat, sounding personally offended. “Of course we care, we-” 

“Do you, though, really?” Yeong cut her off, poking at the piece of chicken on his plate, until now untouched. There was an ant on it, and it ran at the invading finger like a tiny, tiny charging bull. Yeong retracted his hand before it bit him. “’You’ as in your entire institution. Has anyone ever reached out to the gay community? Made them feel safe? Let them know they could report crimes?” 

“Why wouldn’t they report crimes?” Tae Eul asked, taken aback. 

“Harassment, discrimination,” Yeong said. “Gay bashing. They are hard things to admit to.” 

Tae Eul looked uneasy as she said, “Discrimination against homosexuals isn’t a crime.” 

Gon’s eyebrows reached for his hairline, shocked as de jure leader of his country. “Seriously? Does the Republic not cover all its citizens with basic protection rights? I won’t lie and say the Kingdom is at the forefront of equality in our world, but anti-discrimination laws cover everyone.” 

“Harassment and violence are covered, but only in the sense it is for everyone, not on basis of sexuality,” Tae Eul said with a helpless shrug, looking very much put on the spot. “There is no anti-discrimination bill, though. Gay people can lose their jobs, and be kicked out of housing. In the military they can be arrested.” 

It was becoming increasingly clear why the men he’d spoken with were so secretive. Oh, and there was another concern for Eun Seob. He only had, what was it, a week? Less? Of his mandatory service to finish. If his superiors saw that video... Well, an apology wouldn’t cut it, would it? Gon could only hope the possibility of being arrested only held if he was active duty military, instead of public servant. 

Yeong’s brow was lined in a deep frown, his eyes narrowed. “You make men serve your country, then throw them in prison if you find out they’re gay?” 

Tae Eul shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Well, I mean, not me personally, but... yeah.” 

“And you can just kick them out of rented accommodation, leaving them homeless?” Yeong pressed further, looking more outraged by the second, his voice rising with each word. “And jobless, with no income coming in?” 

“Yeong,” Gon said carefully, placing a steadying hand on his arm. Yeong looked at him with hard eyes, but under the King’s stabilising gaze the tense set to his shoulders loosened and he held back whatever else he wanted to say, though his eyes remained hard and fiery. 

“It’s just ridiculous,” he said quietly but with spite. “They shouldn’t be treated like criminals.” 

“They shouldn’t,” Tae Eul agreed sympathetically. “But unfortunately that’s the way it is for now.” 

Tae Eul caught Gon’s eyes, silently asking if Yeong was ok, and all Gon could do was shrug. This was new territory for him, and he didn’t know how best to tread. 

“What should we do about Eun Seob if we draw the killer out?” Yeong was the one to change the subject, his voice still a little stiff with anger, but apparently no longer willing to pretend he didn’t care about his doppelgänger. Finding out he could possibly he thrown in prison because of them clearly sobered Yeong too. “His Majesty and I don’t legally exist in this world, if he tries to track us down all he’ll find is Eun Seob.” 

“You’re right,” Gon said. They really had landed that poor fool in a mess, hadn’t they? “I guess he could stay at the hotel...” 

Tae Eul was shaking her head. “You two are away a lot, he’d be alone too often and a bored Eun Seob is prone to wandering. Plus the two of you are staying there in his name, if the killer is able to trace that and finds out we can’t risk him showing up when Eun Seob’s alone.” Right, Eun Seob was not Yeong, no matter how similar they looked. He didn’t know how to defend himself like Yeong could. 

“That is a good point,” Yeong said, looking like he was analysing and planning in his head. “We should move hotel for your safety, your Majesty. The current one could be compromised.” 

“Nah,” the King said, as casual as if Yeong had asked if he wanted to go sunbathing on a pleasant Summer afternoon. 

“’Nah’?” Yeong repeated, not in the slightest bit impressed, his expression switching from contemplative to utterly exasperated in record time. “What do you mean ‘nah’?” 

“I like it there,” Gon shrugged. “I’m not leaving because some idiot with a knife wants to poke holes in us.” 

Yeong gave him _that_ look, the one he reserved for when he thought the King was being stupendously idiotic. 

“Eun Seob can stay at my place,” Tae Eul put in quickly, trying to ease the sudden tension. “Either me or my dad will be around to keep an eye on him. You two can decide amongst yourselves what you do.” 

“We’ll discuss it later,” Gon lied to make Yeong drop it. Where they were staying was the least important thing right now. Yeong didn’t look like he believed him, but begrudgingly let it go for now. “Let’s concentrate on stopping this guy.” 

"We can use his anger to draw him out," Tae Eul said. "We'll have to come up with a fool proof plan, but this could be our best opportunity to capture him." 

"So long as His Majesty is not placed in danger," Yeong said firmly, no room for argument. 

"Right, that," Tae Eul agreed noncommittally. Yeong glared at her with sharp eyes, the type that sent people running in the opposite direction. However Tae Eul seemed to be the only other person beside Gon and Lady Noh who was immune. 

“She’s bluffing,” Gon said. “She didn’t want me doing this in the first place because I could get hurt.” 

“Yes, well, you’re already involved now, so what happens happens,” Tae Eul said dismissively, the tiny smile she couldn’t quite manage to hold back giving her away. 

“I think we should go with the infuriating him into making a mistake plan,” Gon said. “It’s simple and easy, and if we can’t find him, why not make him find us? Let that dick do the work.” 

“He does already want us dead,” Yeong shrugged. “Might as well add a little more incentive.” 

“Exactly,” Gon nodded. “What’s he going to do? Double kill us?” 

“He’s most likely visiting the gay scene, so he’d hear about it,” Tae Eul said thoughtfully. “If that potentially suspicious man is him, then he’s directly picking men up from clubs and bars and not the surrounding area.” She tapped at her glass of milkshake, thinking hard. “It’s stupidly reckless, and if the Chief knew about this I’d lose my badge quicker than you could say 'Gon is an idiot’” - “Hey! I resent that!” - “but it could work. The man doesn’t seem the type to take criticism well, is quick to anger, and behaves increasingly more deranged.” 

Yeong sighed as he looked at Gon. “Why did you drag us into this?” 

Gon couldn’t do more than give a helpless little shrug. “I get bored?” 

Over the next twenty minutes they discussed what to do, how to best prompt him into lashing out, and Tae Eul repeatedly made them promise to keep her informed of everything and call if they so much as had the tiniest inkling that something was even mildly off. By the time they finished their conversation Gon was convinced that she’d place a bug on them, and if one of them so much as sneezed wrong she’d be kicking down the door with a look that would make the Devil freeze in hesitation and armed to the teeth with military grade arsenal. 

She said she really didn’t want to risk losing her job because they went and got themselves murdered doing unsanctioned police work. But really, Gon teased her, she cared about them and their wellbeing. 

Gon, the generous King he is, offered to pay once their conversation had drawn to its conclusion, and nobody even tried to stop him. So much for common courtesy. 

The woman behind the counter was once again wrestling with the cash register, which refused to close. So a nice difference from refusing to open like before, if you wanted to look at it as a glass half full. 

Up close, Gon could see that it was jammed because of old, crusted food that looked like it had been clinging to the metal since the shop first opened its doors. 

“Just a minute, honey,” the woman said with a raspy voice caused by a lifetime of chain smoking, barely sparing him a glance. With chipped nails imbedded with dirt she dipped her hand into the register, ignoring the ants in there as she pulled out a few notes and pocketed them, in full view of Gon. Gon opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and closed it. 

Gon paid on his card. 

He went back to Yeong and Tae Eul, who were waiting for him by the door, casting one glance back at the thieving employee, and despite himself, the gross child who waved at him, trails of snot dangling from his hand, parts flying off at the rapid movements of his wave and spattering the table he was sat at and floor near his feet. Gon got out the door as quickly as he could. 

“So we’re all set? Nobody has any more questions?” Tae Eul asked once they’d stepped outside, before parting ways. 

“I have a question,” Yeong said, looking at Gon. “Do you really think I have a small waist, or were you just being a dick?” 

Gon laughed in response, and just began walking off with long strides. “You’ll never know,” he called over his shoulder as Yeong bid a hurried goodbye to Tae Eul and raced after him. 

*** 

With no distractions, an abundance of alcohol, and surrounded by people society discriminated against, Yeong was in a slump, and Gon wasn’t sure how to get him out of it. They were sat in the same pub as the night before, Yeong with his shoulders hunched and a gloomy aura surrounding him, listlessly peeling at the label of an empty bottle of soju. 

Although when they started this they didn’t know the killer’s motive, what they had read the night before made it very clear the man believed the victims got exactly what they deserved for ‘choosing the life-style' they did. They had both dealt with death far too much for being so young; Gon’s dreams were still hunted by that day he lost his father and almost his own life. As clearly as he could feel the clothes on his skin he could feel his throat being cut open, the flute crushing his windpipe, staring into the eyes of his uncle-come-murderer. Too small, too helpless to fight back. And for Yeong, despite his silence Gon knew he was haunted by the casualties that he’d willing brought onto himself in order to be the King’s Unbreakable Sword, stepping into a world of brutality to train to be not just a sword, but a shield, always – only – for Gon. 

But even then, the rambling blog littered with gleeful recounts of violence and unhinged rambles of sadism had left them, who’d mingled with death throughout such short lives, with a queasy feeling of unease. He was targeting gay men not because he had a goal, not because he was looking for power, to rule, or even to protect, he killed simply because he thought they were abominations who should be destroyed. A disease to eradicate, not people with thoughts and emotions who loved and were loved. 

Yeong was bothered by it. He was very bothered by it, more so than Gon even if the King’s skin had crawled at the inhumanity they’d read through. Gon had seen how harrowed Yeong had looked when they’d read it last night, the Captain’s eyes not leaving the screen for a single break, reading and re-reading until he absorbed every detail and could recount it by memory. Gon had tried to pull him away, tempting him with snacks, ordering him away from the room, asking him, even pleading with him at one point, but Yeong wouldn’t. He seemed to feel a sense of responsibility, as if he’d personally let the victims down, left them to meet violent ends. 

And then Tae Eul’s revelation about the legal discrimination gay people here faced hadn’t helped his mood either, another blow to the sense of duty he’d developed, another stack of guilt towards the people Gon now realised Yeong felt a kinship with. 

Yeong ordered another drink. Gon just sighed and let him. Those kinds of emotions and alcohol were never a good mix, but Yeong was upset, had every right to be upset, and the King couldn't bring himself to begrudge Yeong downing his woes for one night. 

He pat Yeong on the back with solidarity, a silent promise that they’d end this, and took two shots of soju himself. 

“You’re looking as glum as a pair of pigs going to slaughter.” The two looked around at the voice, Gon with vague curiosity and Yeong like it took effort. Min Hyuk took the seat next to Yeong as if he had an open invitation. He had glitter on his face, and grey-blue contact lenses in. The glitter shone brighter than the dim light like little specs of gold dust, and his eyes looked like a frozen whirlpool. “Miss me, sweet face?” 

“Rainbow Hooker,” Gon greeted pointedly when he was completely ignored in favour of Yeong. “Nice to see you again too.” Min Hyuk wiggled his fingers at him with a cheeky grin. 

Yeong sighed into his drink, then ran his eyes, darker than they usually were, over Min Hyuk’s cheerful exterior. “How do you remain so optimistic when everyone is working against you?” He took a long drag of alcohol as well as a decades practised alcoholic. 

“Wow, ok, one of those moods, huh?” Min Hyuk took Yeong’s drink right out of his hand and drank what remained. He slammed the empty bottle back onto the table before answering. “You’ve gotta stay chipper, pumpkin pie, otherwise you might end up a weeping mess on the wrong side of a bridge’s railing.” 

Gon flinched a little at the imagery, but Yeong just gave Min Hyuk a sorrowful look. 

“You should come back to Corea with us,” Yeong said. “It’s not great, but it’s better than Korea.” 

Min Hyuk gave him a half-amused, half-confused look. “Leave Korea for Korea? I think you got a country mixed up, sugar plum. Either you need to put the bottles down, or it’s a damn good job you’re so pretty.” 

“No, our Corea,” Yeong said empathically, while Gon waved his arms at him from behind Min Hyuk in a silent signal to shut the Hell up right now. “It’s through the bamboo forest.” 

Gon facepalmed, and Min Hyuk asked, “How much have you actually been drinking?” 

“Not enough,” Yeong said, meaning it. Gon disagreed, he thought Yeong had had enough, but he kept his silence. “Buy me another.” 

“Anything for you, angel face.” 

Min Hyuk bought Yeong a replacement drink for the one he stole, and to Gon’s relief Yeong didn’t bring up their home world again. 

As Yeong drank, Gon watched Min Hyuk’s eyes repeatedly flicker to a more shadowed corner were a man was eyeing him with intent clear even from this distance. Min Hyuk grinned wolfishly as he got to his feet, tapping the table between the two of them. “Gotta go, gents, business calls. Behave yourselves now, kids.” 

“Wait!” Yeong said, scrambling off his chair. Then, to Gon’s complete and utter shock, Yeong pulled Min Hyuk into a hug. Min Hyuk nearly looked as startled as Gon, but then he was grinning wide and hugging him back. Gon just sat there and gaped, unable to recover from what he was witnessing. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s this for?” Min Hyuk asked, copping a feel of Yeong’s strong arms and shoulders. When Yeong stayed hugging him after that Gon’s hand went to his mouth in shock, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing. 

“Just because,” Yeong didn’t explain. He held on a little longer, his grip a little harder, but stepped back with a squeak when Min Hyuk tried his luck getting a handful of arse cheek. 

“Sorry,” Min Hyuk grinned, not looking sorry at all as his eyes twinkled. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” 

Yeong huffed and sat back down, grumpy but no longer as dire as he’d been before the smaller man had shown up. “Get going. That guy isn’t going to pay himself for sex.” 

Min Hyuk gave them both a salute and sashayed away with deliberate flair, all for them. 

“Do you need medicine?” Gon asked once they were alone again, reaching out to place his palm against Yeong’s forehead. 

Yeong bat it off. “No. I’m fine.” 

“You just hugged someone,” Gon said, as if Yeong hadn’t noticed. “You. Jo Yeong. Hugged someone. Voluntarily.” Yeong was even more opposed to physical contact than Gon, and that was saying something since he had the scar of his attempted murder and his ever-vivid memories of his father’s actual murder as reminders of how much he hated being touched. 

“So,” Yeong grumbled, as defensive as if he’d been insulted. Pointing out he’d been physically affectionate likely _was_ insulting to Yeong. “I can hug people if I want.” 

Gon came to the firm conclusion of, “This entire world is insane.” And it seemed to be contagious. 

“Let’s just do what we came here to do, hmm?” Yeong replied, finishing off his drink and turning to face the crowd of around maybe 30-40 men. “You think he’s here? I don’t see any tall men.” 

“Me neither,” Gon said, and quickly finished his own drink. “Let’s just start shit talking him to people.” 

He held out his hand to Yeong, but just like last time Yeong wouldn’t take it. Gon frowned, but didn’t bother pushing the matter, instead after they got up he placed an arm around Yeong’s shoulders, keeping him tucked into his side. Yeong shifted, like he couldn’t get comfortable, though he fit against Gon’s side like a puzzle piece. 

“So, how should we play this?” Gon asked, looking around at the crowd mingling and laughing, chatting and flirting. 

Yeong didn’t reply, fidgeting nervously with his sleeves. Gon watched him for a few moments, not for any particular reason, simply because it was easy to do so when the other man was distracted. Usually he pulled away when Gon got too close, had done since he was a teen. Gon had never asked why, after all it’s what everyone did. Nobody dared stand too close to the King, even during the times Gon had desperately wished they had. He’d thought Yeong would be different, and he was as a child, but he grew older and demands of protocol were made from the people around them, so Yeong had become like the others. It was strange how lonely Gon could feel when Yeong was so close. 

“Yeong!” Gon snapped when the younger man stayed pulling at a loose thread, covering for his own musings. “Concentrate.” 

“Sorry,” the Captain mumbled. “We could just... tell people we’re dating? That is what he doesn’t like.” 

Gon gave a pointed look to how they were stood, Yeong’s smaller frame leaning into him, their sides pressed together as if they did this all the time, as if physical intimacy hadn't been foreign to them for the past twelve or so years. “Everyone already thinks that. We need something more, something to really rile him up. We need _pizzazz._ ” 

Yeong looked up at him with weary eyes, caution shining in them. Gon knew he neither liked nor trusted the word pizzazz, especially when it fell from the lips of the King. Gon was known for his dramatics, and Yeong was known for having to clean up the messes Gon’s dramatics caused. 

After looking down at him to give him a cheeky grin, not in the slightest bit reassuring nor meaning to be, Gon scanned the room and his eyes quickly landed on the stage. Or, more specifically, the microphone centre and forefront on the stage. Oh, that could most certainly work. 

Yeong saw where he was looking, and his eyes widened. He caught onto the King’s train of thought immediately. Although the physical intimacy may not exist, Yeong knew him like no other on an emotional and mental level. “Oh no, no no no, not that again,” he pleaded, tugging at Gon’s shirt with no regard to the fact it cost more than the average person’s monthly salary. “Your Majesty, not another video!” 

“Why not? It would work perfectly,” Gon said, eyes not leaving the stage as Yeong pawed at him inefficiently. There was very little that could derail Gon once he’d gotten an idea into his head. “It’s far better than trash talking him to strangers and hoping he hears about it second hand. Let’s make sure he sees it, and he can listen to it again and again.” 

The thought was very pleasing, and Gon had no issue in admitting that he wanted to hurt this killer, dig deep under his skin and leave a permanent mark. The thing was, Gon was angry too. He was seriously pissed off. He was taking these killings personally, because they had become personal to Yeong. Whatever or whoever hurt Yeong hurt Gon too as a repercussion, and Gon would hurt them back for ever daring to hurt Yeong. Whether Yeong said it aloud or not, it had become crystal clear over these past few days that his friend – his best friend – is gay. And this messed up psychopath was killing gay men, men like Yeong. Just thinking about it was infuriating, the idea that anyone would want to kill Yeong – hardworking, serious, loyal Yeong who put his heart into everything he did – just because he wasn’t attracted to women made Gon want to find this guy and kill him himself. How dare he view Yeong as lesser, as sub-human, when Yeong was so much greater than that cockroach could ever even hope to be. 

It’s a good thing words could be the most vicious weapons. 

With set determination and a score to be settled, Gon went up on stage with single-minded purpose, dragging a mortified looking Yeong behind him. 

“If I could have your attention,” Gon said, tapping on the microphone, smiling brightly with sharp-teethed cheer as the dull of chatter died down and people turned to look, a mix of confusion and intrigue on their faces. A small distance from him, Yeong had his head partially ducked in self-consciousness. 

“Hello,” Gon grinned, more shark-like than friendly, “me again. I’m sure you all missed my stunning face, so I decided to kindly grace you with my presence once again. Please, take your phones out, you don’t want to miss this I assure you.” He gave people a few moments as some began to reach for their phones, looking unsure but not ready to miss whatever was about to happen. Once a few cameras were aimed his way Gon reached out an arm and wrapped it around Yeong’s waist, pulling him closer so they were back stood hip to hip, a little more intimately this time. (Vaguely, Gon thought he was right about Yeong’s waist, it was nice to wrap his arm around.) “I also never properly introduced my boyfriend last time, did I? You may remember Yeong as the drunk in the pink feather boa who likes being spanked.” 

Yeong wilted next to him, trying to get away but the King kept a firm grip on his waist. He was determined to catch this guy, and he was going to make sure Yeong was a part of it the whole way through. 

“To start with I would just like to thank everyone for being so welcoming of us, as we’re new to this scene. More importantly, I also just wanted to say a big fuck you to the man who murdered three gay men these past few months, and to tell him to suck a dick.” 

A shocked murmur broke out amongst the crowd, but Gon wasn’t done yet. He was just getting started. He said he was going to anger the killer into coming for him, and that was exactly what he was going to do. 

“Seriously, he needs to suck a fat, hairy-sacked dick. I think it’s pretty obvious to us all that he’s compensating for his own inadequacies. A little loner rejected by society because he is so lacking in all aspects of his life, so unlovable, so intolerable, that the only way anyone can bare to even look at him is if they are dead.” He looked out into the rapidly growing number of cameras like he was looking directly at the killer through the lens; mocking him, daring him to do something about it, to come and shut him up. “I would put money on why he’s acting out so violently, taking out his poor little hurt feelings on the people society unfairly views as hedonistic, of decadent sexuality. He’s likely impotent, causing him to be rejected by anyone he’s ever approached romantically, his social skills as lacking and underwhelming as his shrivelled limp dick, therefore also warding off anything even resembling friendship. He’s a lonely, friendless virgin, angry and frustrated because no woman will touch him, a child smashing his toys because he can’t get his own way. Either the guy has deeply repressed homosexual urges, or he’s furiously jacking off every night to pictures he took of his mother showering.” 

Yeong made a noise caught up between a laugh and scandalised shock besides him, the crowd having similar reactions. By now pretty much everyone had their phones out and were recording. 

It didn’t feel like enough. They wanted to really enrage this guy, have him come after them with a half-formed plan. Make him easy to catch. There was one way of accomplishing that that Gon could think of. 

“He wishes he could have something like this.” 

Without warning he pulled Yeong against his chest, cupped his face in his hands, and lowered his mouth onto his. 

Yeong’s lips were plump and soft, but his body had gone rigid against Gon. He’d apologise for doing this so suddenly later. For now, Gon kissed him in front of the crowd, in front of the phones they held up, in front of the cheering and whistling and catcalling. He lingered against Yeong’s lips, the man’s cologne and natural sent surprisingly pleasing to Gon’s senses as he ran one hand over Yeong’s cheek, down his shoulder, and lightly gripped his upper arm. The other he left cupping his face, keeping their lips pressed together in a soft but meaningful kiss. 

Then after a few seconds Yeong was moving, kissing back, arms wrapping around Gon’s waist, eagerly pressing flush against him so there wasn’t an inch between their bodies as their lips danced. 

It was surprisingly easy, kissing Yeong. He didn’t have to bend over so far as he did with the women he’d been with, he just titled Yeong’s head up, angled his own down, and their mouths met with no neck cranks or bending of the spine. Yeong’s body was bigger than any of the women’s too, meaning more contact and heat between them, his arms holding more firmly around Gon’s waist. It wasn’t a battle though, neither attempting to gain any control as Gon assumed two men would do, instead they moved with each other, twenty-five years of familiarity and understanding between them. 

It was Gon who pulled away first, slowly parting their lips and taking half a step back, grinning out at the fired up crowd. That should do it. 

He took a dumbfounded Yeong’s hand (for the first time meeting no resistance to this) and led him off stage. Yeong went along with no defiance, a glazed look to his eyes. 

“Sorry about that,” Gon laughed once they were out of earshot, high on adrenaline. “You don’t mind, do you? We had to get the killer’s attention.” 

Yeong’s eyes immediately cleared up at his words, clarity coming back to him with a snap, and he snatched his hand back away from Gon. “What?” He asked, and for a moment Gon thought he looked very deeply hurt, but as quick as the look came it was gone, and the King assumed he must have imagined it. “The killer. Right. It – It's fine, it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Right,” the King said, still grinning ear to ear as the people around them shouted out encouragements and praise. “So now we just have to wait for him to see it.” 

“Wait. Yeah.” Yeong looked at the bar, tense and moody. “I’m... I’m going to wait over there, you can... whatever.” 

Yeong walked away, and it was with a confused frown that Gon went after him. 

As Gon took a seat next to him, Yeong had already ordered a beer, breaking Gon’s no drinking rule for the nth time today. 

Gon dragged his stool closer, the noise of the legs on the floor loud to his ears, so their knees were touching. He was conscious of people still watching them, even if they had put their phones away. They still needed everyone to think they’re boyfriends. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked quietly but with gripe, leaning in so as to not risk being overheard. Yeong’s mood swings were getting out of hand, and frankly Gon had had enough of them. They’d just done what they’d set out to accomplish, so what the Hell was his problem? 

Yeong pulled his legs away with a jerk. "Why are you so insistent on this?" Yeong asked, aggrieved and not bothering to keep his volume low, but at least he wasn’t being loud. “Wasn’t kissing enough? We don’t have to touch each other constantly!” 

"Why are you acting so offended?" Gon countered, working to keep his own voice level as his frustration grew, letting Yeong have his space but ensuring it wasn’t _too_ much. They didn’t need anyone thinking they were having a lovers spat. "Do you really have that much of a problem with me?" 

Yeong’s expression switched again, and Gon really didn’t know how to take all this. Yeong hadn’t been this emotional since he was a child. 

"No," Yeong was quick to relieve Gon’s hurt, his anger breaking more into desperation. Desperation for what, Gon didn’t know. Yeong was so confusing lately, Gon didn’t know what was up and what was down with him half the time anymore. "I don't have an issue with you, your Majesty. It's just... we're together all the time, and I don't want things to get awkward because of... this." 

"I'm not feeling awkward," Gon shrugged with forced casualness, not wanting to upset him or set him off again. He shoved any anger down now Yeong wasn’t being so aggressive, bottling it up to dispose of, or perhaps deal with later depending on how today went. "Are you?" 

Yeong didn't reply for a few moments, his face a grimace. "Maybe a little, your Majesty." 

The barman, a different one from the night before, sat two drinks down in front of them, telling them it was on the house, and Yeong used his bottle as a distraction. He looked so utterly depressed. 

“This whole thing,” Yeong said once it was in his hand, no more distractions available to him. Gon waited patiently as Yeong tried to find the words he was searching for. “It’s... I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t think you would... That I...” He frowned, hard, like he was battling with the words to force them out. “It’s been more...challenging... than I’d thought it would be.” 

Gon bit his lip, unsure if he should say what he was thinking. “Is this because of your...” 

_Sexuality_ was the word he was going for, but it got lost somewhere between his tongue and lips. 

Yeong looked up at him, eyes big and sad and scared. “Your Majesty... the truth is, I-” 

“Oh my God!” A now very familiar voice shouted, and Min Hyuk appeared back before them. Yeong’s jaw snapped closed, lips firmly pressed together, and Gon could have hit Min Hyuk for it. “I cannot believe you just did that! Why did you say those things? I mean, it was amazing, but are you insane? Are you trying to be next? But also, holy Hell, that kiss! You realise it’s already uploaded online, right? Literally everyone will have seen in within half an hour! I’ve already sent it to Chang Ho, I can’t believe he missed it _again_! He’s going to be sooo mad.” 

“Min Hyuk!” Gon snapped, rounding on him with all the frustration he’d been keeping from Yeong lashing out of him with the force of a whip, mad at the thoughtless interruption. “Yeong was about to say something!” 

Min Hyuk blinked, and silently looked at Yeong, waiting. 

Yeong quickly shook his head and turned back to the bar. “It was nothing. It doesn’t matter. Just forget about it.” 

Gon sighed disgruntled, side-eyeing Min Hyuk with some venom. He was _sure_ Yeong was about to come out to him, trust that damn Rainbow Hooker to ruin it. Now how long would it take for Yeong to pluck up the courage again? Another twenty-five years? 

“Why did you do it, though?” Min Hyuk was asking. “Why’d you want to piss him off? You do realise he’s a serial killer, right? That means he kills people.” 

“Yes, I know what a serial killer is,” Gon said, rankled and indignant. Did he think him an idiot? 

“Just checking,” Min Hyuk said with a shrug. “I guess if angering serial killers is your hobby, well, better you than me.” 

“Why are you even here?” Gon huffed. “Shouldn’t you be getting paid to... you know what.” 

Min Hyuk pulled some bills out from the wrong side of his trousers and flashed them with an easy grin. “Already got paid some easy money. Guy was embarrassing, honestly. He lasted eighteen seconds. I counted.” 

“That is embarrassing,” Yeong said. “Someone should take pity and buy him some Viagra.” 

“Eh, if he’d kept a stiffy, I would have missed that whole speech,” Min Hyuk shrugged. “And I’m seriously glad I didn’t. It was beautiful, the entire thing.” He gave Gon a friendly shove with his shoulder. “Really building up that King of the Gays reputation, huh, big guy?” 

“I’m King of everyone,” Gon said a little sourly. “Gay and straight.” 

“Damn right,” Min Hyuk grinned. “You get ‘em, tiger.” 

Over the next ten minutes the three chattered, Yeong really beginning to open up and forget his earlier slump. Occasionally they were interrupted by the odd person coming over to either compliment Gon, call him a crazy bastard, ask him a question, or sometimes even just get a look at him close up. Gon was used to all of this, and took it in stride. Yeong kept out of it as much as he could, always a shadow, and Min Hyuk ate up the attention like it was for him. 

Then the door to the pub flew open with an echoing bang and Chang Ho came storming in like a tornado of flamboyance, dressed to the nines in rainbow sequins and leaving a trial of glitter that matched Min Hyuk’s in his wake. “Oh. My. God. OH! MY! GOD! I cannot _believe_ I missed it again! Is this fate? Does the universe hate me? Am I being punished for some crime in a past life?” He was with them in a few strides of knee high, six inch heeled boots, looking between Gon and Yeong like they held the meaning to life but refused to share. “I just cannot with you two. Seriously. Where did you even come from? Did you fall off a rainbow and crash land here? Who blessed me with these fierce queens, and simultaneously cursed me from ever seeing you in action?” 

“I’m a King,” Gon stressed, putting emphasis on the correct gender pronoun. 

“Shut it, honey! I’m ranting!” Chang Ho said, clamping his hand together in a shushing motion. Gon was offended and let it show, but Chang Ho paid him no mind. “I just can’t believe that this is my luck. Am I a bad person?” 

Gon opened his mouth, and Chang Ho made the same shushing motion. 

“That was a rhetorical question, darling! Of course I know I’m not. I’m amazing, fabulous, perfect,” he said, giving them a twirl. Flecks of glitter landed on them, and they rubbed it off their faces. “And apparently never in the right place at the right time. Urgh! I hate life sometimes!” He rounded on Gon and Yeong, and pulled out his phone. “You’re just going to have to do it again.” 

“Do... what again?” Gon asked, already knowing where this was going. 

“Kiss, darling!” Chang Ho said, throwing his hands up exuberantly, his expensive phone almost flying away from his loose grip. 

Gon’s ears turned red, and Yeong turned back to the bar to order another drink. 

“We aren’t kissing on demand,” the monarch told him firmly. “If you missed it you missed it. Not our fault.” 

“Oh, come on,” Chang Ho whined. “Please? Just a quick kiss? A peck? You don’t even have to use tongues, though they’re preferred.” 

“No,” Gon said very firmly. “And don’t ask again.” 

Chang Ho pouted, “I’ll just have to stalk you then, phone always at the ready.” He leaned down from where he was stood, placing his cheek next to Gon’s and turning the camera to selfie mode, pouting out his lips in a kissing face. He tapped Gon on the shoulder, trying to get him to do the same. Gon would rather be beheaded. 

Yeong gave him a challenging look at the stalker comment, his natural protection instincts kicking in, and Chang Ho was wise enough to stop bugging them. Most likely because he didn’t want to step too far into what he thought was another man’s territory rather than because of intimidation. These two technicoloured friends were oddly immune to fear. “Fine,” Chang Ho pouted childishly. “I’ll leave you to bask in your stale achievements.” With that, he took Min Hyuk’s hand and the two left with deliberate sways to their slim hips, a clear ‘look what you’re missing’. 

“Those two,” Yeong said with a shake of his head. 

Gon nodded in agreement. 

His phone beeped a text message alert, and he pulled it out to read. It was from Tae Eul. 

_Just watched the video. Damn. I think it’s safe to say you’ve pissed him off. Also talked to Eun Seob, he’s coming to mine later._

Given the mess Gon had landed him in the polite thing to do would be to speak to Eun Seob himself face to face before he left for Tae Eul’s, since she didn’t want a King from a parallel universe rocking up to her house and risk having to explain it all to her dad. 

Their work here was done, there was no need to stay. He quickly shot back a text, asking if she knew where Eun Seob was. She was quick to reply, her best guess The Alley. That made sense. He checked his watch. It wasn’t too late, if they took a taxi now they could arrive by nine. Nari would be just shutting up shop. 

Gon put his phone back into his pocket, and looked at Yeong. 

“We should find Eun Seob,” he said. “Tae Eul said he’s probably at The Alley. She spoke to him over the phone, and he said he’d go to hers tonight.” 

Yeong looked at him hesitantly, then around the room, his eyes lingering on Min Hyuk and Chang Ho laughing together at a booth, then scanning over the other men around him. Gon didn’t miss the way his eyes stopped very briefly on one man in particular, broad shouldered and handsome. 

“Eun Seob isn’t in immediate danger.” Yeong hesitated, looking very unsure of himself, and Gon thought he’d back out of whatever his next words were, but he didn’t. He met Gon’s eyes hesitantly, and asked, “Do you mind... if I stay here a little longer, your Majesty?” 

To say Gon was surprised was an understatement. 

This was certainly a turnaround he hadn’t been expecting. Gon cast a quick gaze around the open concept building, taking in the men living freely and authentically as themselves just for a few hours before the tight grip of reality took hold again. Cinderella before midnight struck, and the carriage turned back into a pumpkin. 

Gon couldn’t begrudge Yeong this. Hadn’t he himself told him he needed some fairytales in his life? 

He smiled, pat Yeong on the shoulder. “Sure,” he said. He didn’t want happiness to be a fairytale for Yeong. He wanted Yeong to always be himself. For now, though, a fairytale was all he had. Gon would make sure that changed, if he had to rewrite the damn constitution and abuse his power to throw elected bigoted officials from his government that’s what he’d do, he resolved. 

(It should probably scare him, the lengths he was willing to go to to ensure one man was happy, but wanting to see Yeong smile felt too natural for him to care, to question it.) 

Yeong had a small smile on his face now, just the tiniest upcurve of his lips, and Gon’s heartbeats were hurting. 

What did Yeong making this request mean? Were things about to change? He hadn’t opened up, not verbally, but this was certainly a big step. 

Gon didn’t know what to feel about Yeong requesting to stay alone in a gay pub, after having eyed a man. Happy that he was willing to say this desire to Gon, a little sad that... what? Why would Gon be sad? Was it just because Gon was leaving without him? That didn’t make sense, Yeong didn’t follow him _everywhere_ , and he’d only be gone a few hours. But it was a whirling turmoil in his gut. He shoved the emotion down, not knowing why it was there anyway. He decided to settle on happiness. 

Happiness and worry, like a mother hen about to leave her chicks for the first time. Was Yeong going to cope okay alone? He didn’t have the best track record in gay bars and clubs. These people had better be welcoming to his Yeong or he’d have them all beheaded. 

“You’re going to be ok, right?” Gon fretted. Yeong nodded. “You aren’t going to get so drunk you stumble out into traffic?” Yeong said he wasn’t a child. “You’ll remember to call a taxi to get back to the hotel?” Yeong sighed out a ‘yes, mother,’ and Gon didn’t even care. “Make sure you’re back before the sun rises, or I’ll come drag you back by your ear. Do you understand?” 

Yeong rolled his eyes and walked away. 

“I mean it!” Gon shouted after him. “Behave yourself! I don’t want you meeting any more hookers!” 

Yeong hurried away faster, and the men closest to Gon gave him weird looks. “It’s a thing he does,” Gon told them. “He gets drunk and makes a fool of himself.” The men gave him another strange look, but turned back to their own conversation. 

For a few lingering moments he stood and watched Yeong disappear alone for the first time into a crowd of his own people. Gon felt so proud. He’d seen a documentary once about some men who’d released their lion into the wild, and he imagined this is how they must have felt. 

“Godspeed, my little gay Yeongie. Go get some dick.” 

It’s very possible Gon had had a few too many drinks. 

With that thought, Gon only slightly stumbled out of the pub. Immediately the skies opened and a torrent of rain lashed down on him. Well, that sobered him up quick. 

*** 

The rain was heavy, but it was a quick shower. By the time the taxi pulled up to The Alley it had stopped, no clouds in sight. 

Gon stepped out of the car, being sure to avoid puddles and mud. 

There was a delivery van outside The Alley, men in uniform unloading boxes as Nari kept a sharp eye on them. Maximus was eyeing the van with distaste. Gon didn’t blame her, it was a tacky looking thing, and she was used to the ostentation she rightly deserves. 

“Don’t look at it, Lady Maximus,” he said, gaining her attention. The horse turned her head to watch him approach, ear forwards with interest. He reached her in a few strides, stroking a hand down her neck. “Just think of your nice stable and pastures. You’ll be out of this ghastly place soon, and back where you belong.” 

Poor Maximus must be having a terrible time without her grooms to hand. When he came by the other day her hooves hadn’t been properly picked, the poor girl, and Gon had to do it himself. Never mind the fact all her luxury grooming products were nowhere to be seen. He’d had to wash her with just water a few days ago! It was very unbecoming for a lady of her stature. 

He’d barely gotten to pet Maximus before the van was driving off and Nari spotted him, around 7-8 boxes at her feet. 

“You!” Nari snapped, pointing at him. Gon looked around, saw nobody else, and pointed at himself questioningly. “Yes, you, you genius! Man with the pretty horse. Who else would I mean?” She jabbed a finger at the boxes. “Put your testosterone to good use and move these for me.” When Gon didn’t immediately jump to it, she clapped her hands impatiently. “Come on, chop chop! They aren’t going to grow legs and walk.” 

Gon blinked. Was he being ordered around? And by a commoner, at that. Maximus whinnied, likely outraged on his behalf, and Gon looked at her. He looked back at Nari, who was tapping her foot impatiently. He looked back at Maximus who snorted as if to say ‘no way’, and back to Nari who crossed her arms with a growing look of impatience. He went to move the boxes. Maximus looked betrayed. 

“This is putting my testosterone to good use?” He asked after picking up the first box and almost dropping it. What the Hell were in these things? Bricks and weights? 

“Well it's for me, so yes, obviously. Keep up.” 

Nari disappeared back inside, leaving the door open for him. With a sigh, Gon got a good grip on the box and carried it in. By the time he reached the counter and put it down with a heavy thump, he was panting a bit. 

A familiar laugh made him look over to his right, where Eun Seob was stood with a tall glass of bubble tea. 

“Didn’t take her long to get you working free labour, did it?” He grinned, all white teeth and pink gums and shiny eye smiles. 

“Why aren’t _you_ helping?” Gon questioned grumpily. King’s aren’t made for manual labour; they are made to tell others to do it for them. (He wasn’t about to let on he didn’t really mind, that maybe he actually liked being treated the same as anyone else occasionally.) 

Although it was nice to see Eun Seob, Gon was feeling very guilty. Eun Seob knew the danger of arrest he and Yeong had landed him in, but he’d said nothing. He was too sweet, too selfless, to the point of being an idiot. Just a kind idiot. Eun Seob sucked up his tea through a curly multicoloured straw, looking for all the world as innocent as a kid. 

“Because Eun Seob is a precious bean who needs protecting,” Nari answered for him. 

Most men wouldn’t like that, most men would argue their manliness. Eun Seob just giggled happily and stared at Nari like a love-struck idiot. 

Gon rolled his eyes and went to get another box. When passing the other man, pitching his voice too low for Nari to hear, he said, “If you ever pluck up the courage to ask her out, she’s going to eat you alive.” 

That woman was the human equivalent of a praying mantis, he was calling it now. She’d bite his head off. 

“I hope so,” Eun Seob said dreamily. 

Honestly, how was this guy Yeong? Gon just shook he head and went back out. Eun Seob followed him, sipping at his tea, and did nothing to help as Gon picked up another box. Yeong would, if he was here. In fact, he’d bring all of them in without Gon even having to tell him to. Eun Seob just watched. They may look identical, but Yeong was clearly the better one between them (not that it was ever in doubt – Yeong was better than pretty much everyone, as far as Gon is concerned.) 

“I spoke with Tae Eul earlier,” he said as he headed back inside with another ridiculously heavy box, Eun Seob trailing behind him like a puppy too young and affectionate to start guard dog training yet. “And she brought up a good point. Given that you aren’t a real police officer, how did your parents take you saying you were undercover?” 

Eun Seob laughed and puffed out his chest. “Of course they believed me! I give off that air of cool-guy mystery.” 

“They’re choosing to believe it out of pure stubbornness because they don’t want to believe you’re gay, aren’t they?” Gon said flatly, turning to Eun Seob after placing the box on the counter. 

Eun Seob deflated with a pout. Even his tea seemed to have less bubbles. “One hundred percent.” 

“Sorry,” Gon said with a helpless shrug and a small grimace. “Though if you man up and ask out Nari, that should help.” 

Eun Seob looked passed Gon to Nari as she sorted through the first box behind the counter. He looked about as enthusiastic to admit his feelings to her as Yeong did being forced to take his mandatory days off. 

“She wouldn’t like me like that,” Eun Seob said dispassionately, shoe scuffing the floor, looking like an overgrown child not allowed out to play. “She’s got her own business, and fancy cars, and all this success, and I’m just... me.” 

“Don’t discredit yourself,” Gon replied sternly. “You’re a good person, and have your own charms. I think she’d love to go on a date with you.” 

“What about you and Yeong?” Eun Seob asked suddenly, and Gon frowned at the unsubtle subject change. 

“What about Yeong and I?” He asked anyway, allowing him the change of topic without remark. Eun Seob seemed the sort to not push, just lead him there slowly. 

“I saw a video just before you came, the two of you kissed,” Eun Seob said, then added with a scrunched up face, “it was a little weird, because it was like watching myself kiss you.” 

Oh. Well, that video indeed spread fast, didn’t it? “There is no me and Yeong, I told you that,” Gon said, like his words alone put an end to the subject. “It was to provoke the killer. Hence the whole goading speech before the kiss.” 

Usually, Gon’s words _did_ put an end to any conversation, but that was in Corea where he was King, here however? Eun Seob just peered at him closely, eyes narrowed and filled with disbelief. “Are you sure? It looked very convincing.” 

“Of course I’m sure,” Gon said with a chiding tone. It had meant nothing. Gon knew that, Yeong knew that. Sure, it wasn’t _bad_ , but that didn't mean it was _good_. It was just... Yeong. Something unfamiliar with someone familiar. It had felt natural, like kissing Yeong was as normal as exchanging friendly banter. But that didn’t mean he was into it, it was simply because he was so used to Yeong being such a huge part of his life, so there was no need to be embarrassed. If there was a tiny part of his mind telling him maybe he _did_ like it, well, that was surely just the inquisitive part of his nature that wanted to explore everything, that had him spending hours and days writing equations and studying scientific journals until he had to be bodily pulled away from his study to eat and sleep and perform his actual duties. That same burning curiosity that brought him into a parallel world. He was just a curious person, who liked to see and question every side of a thing, thought or situation. It meant nothing. 

“If you say so,” Eun Seob agreed doubtfully. “But if you want to provoke the killer, what about me? Me and Yeong look the same, people have already misidentified us, plus he doesn’t exist in this world. Couldn’t the killer come after me?” 

“That’s why I came here,” Gon said. “I know you spoke with Tae Eul a little while ago, and we both agree its best if you lay low for a while, just until we catch this guy. She said you agreed to stay at hers?” 

“Yeah,” Eun Seob said. “I’m going there later, I just wanted to see Nari first.” 

Gon nodded. “Just make sure you don’t leave it too late. And... I’m sorry, Eun Seob. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in this.” 

Eun Seob had been so kind about the whole thing. He wasn’t even complaining about possibly having a serial killer target him, only voiced his concern. Even then, barely. Not to mention he had said nothing about what these videos could do to him if military officials’ saw them and connected the dots. Even if future employees or landlords saw it and remembered his face. It was very selfish, what Gon had done, doubly so that he’d kissed Yeong even after learning the trouble it could land Eun Seob in. Gon led a life that bred and encouraged selfishness, of putting himself first. He’d lived a life surrounded by yes men, ‘no’ was as foreign to him as hieroglyphs. People just simply did not say no to Gon. If he asked for something, he was given it. If he took something, it was not resisted. Selfishness came to him naturally, and even in the things that he didn't wish to be selfish with, in many ways he _had_ to be selfish. He couldn’t step in front of a bullet for the people he cared about, nor prevent them from taking a bullet for him. Quite the opposite, he expected them to take the bullet. 

Eun Seob, however, was all selflessness. The polar opposite of Gon. He never demanded things for himself, never expected anything to just be given to him. It was one of the ways he and Yeong were a perfect match, undoubtedly the same person from two parallel worlds. Gon did not wish he could be as selfless as them, but sometimes he wished they’d be as selfish as him. 

“Don’t worry, your Majesty, there’s no need to apologise. It’s for the best,” Eun Seob said, all bright, genuine smiles, not a shred of hostility or resentment in his eyes, nor his entire being. Poor, foolish, sweet Eun Seob. “You’re doing this to save lives, and that’s all that matters.” 

_Does your life not matter too?_ Gon wants to ask. But he smiles at Eun Seob and nods his head. “You need to stop by the hotel at some point,” he says instead, instead of telling him he’d drop this, find another way, that it would be much harder but so long as it meant Eun Seob was safe it was worth it. “You left your shoes.” 

Eun Seob gave an embarrassed laugh, stroking the back of his head bashfully. “You noticed that? I’d hoped you hadn’t.” 

Sometimes, Gon wasn’t a very nice person. He chuckled, reached out and messed up Eun Seob’s hair. Sometimes, he wished the people around him would stop just _giving_. “You’re an idiot, but you’re cute, so I can forgive you.” 

They joked about, Eun Seob without a single complaint, as Gon brought in the rest of the boxes. By the time he finished, sweat beading at his skin and his arms beginning to protest, he’d moved passed any thoughts of the people around him just saying ‘no’, and had accepted it as the way it always was, the way it was supposed to be. 

Eun Seob bought him a drink, and took a sip first before handing it over without Gon needing to ask or remind him. 

“Tasted, non-poisoned, and a reward for forced labour fit for a King,” Eun Seob laughed sunnily. 

From behind the counter, Nari gave them an odd look at the interaction. 

“Men,” she said, shaking her head. “Who invented them? Because I’m sure mother nature didn’t.” 

Eun Seob turned his radiant smile on her, causing Na Ri to blush lightly. That seemed like Gon’s clue to leave. He bid them both goodbye, gave Eun Seob an encouraging pat on the back, and headed back out to Maximus. 

With Eun Seob occupied watching Nari with a dreamy look, Nari putting away all the new stock, and Yeong busy for the night, Gon decided to go for a ride. He was barely able to spend any quality time with Maximus in this world, and he missed riding. 

But first he spent a calming hour brushing her down, unhurried and enjoying the simple task and easy quiet. Just her breaths between them, the muted sound of the city behind them. It was nice to spend some time bonding with her, he felt bad leaving her alone so often in this world, the lack of attention and exercise must be getting to her. She was a fairly old horse now in her twenties, so she could handle the decrease in exercise, but he was concerned about keeping up her level of fitness. Her mother was still alive at thirty-five, and her grandmother had lived to forty-two. Gon would like Maximus to live even longer than her grandmother. He finished brushing her down and grabbed her tack. 

He held the bit to her mouth and she took it without fuss. With a friendly rub to her forehead he slipped on the bridle, being sure no hair got trapped in it as he pulled out her forelock. Once satisfied, he placed the saddle on her back. 

As he reached to pull the girth under her belly, he heard the uneven footfalls of a drunk’s stagger. He looked up, and his eyes widened at the familiar figure. 

Shit, Yeong couldn’t turn up here while Eun Seob was still in the building! Nari would see them. As quickly as he could he finished tacking up Maximus, grabbed her reins and led her over to Yeong, trying to aim it so her body would block the sight of the Captain from The Alley’s windows. 

Yeong was stumbling as if walking during a low magnitude earthquake, watching his feet with a frown of concentration. It looked like he’d had more drinks after Gon had left rather than sobering up. He didn’t bother asking how Yeong got here, or why he’d come here, just grabbed his arm and hurried him away from the side street that led to Nari’s shop. Yeong almost fell into Maximus, who snorted a warning, but semi-successfully stumbled along behind the King. 

Gon really needed to go for a ride, clear his head. 

“I’m going to call you a taxi,” Gon said, keeping his voice firm and clear to insure it not just entered Yeong’s inebriated mind but stayed there. With a quick few taps on an app, one was four minutes out and on its way. “You are going to go back to the hotel and sleep this off, do you understand?” 

Yeong nodded dutifully, expression as serious as he could make it, and he attempted to stand ridged and alert, but he stumbled to the side the moment Gon let go of his arm. Gon held back a sigh. 

“Repeat what I just said.” 

Yeong opened his mouth, closed it, thought for a few long moments, and then opened it again. “Guard the King?” 

Gon stopped holding back that sigh. There was a bench just off from the street, in a small grassy area that was muddy from the rain. Not an ideal location, but it would do. He guided Yeong onto it, Maximus looking happy as she lowered her head to munch at the grass. “You are going to sit here until the taxi comes, then you are going to get in it and return to the hotel.” 

“We’re goin’ to the hotel?” Yeong asked, lying down and getting comfy, as if he couldn’t tell the difference between a hard, wet public bench and his plush bed in Korea’s most expensive hotel suite. 

“No,” Gon said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “ _You_ are going to the hotel. I’m taking Maximus out.” 

Yeong blinked. “Max’mus is here?” He looked passed Gon, to the large horse whose white fur stood out starkly against the black night and who had been alongside them all this time. “Oh, your M’sty, Max’mus is there.” 

For who even knew how many times these past few days, Gon wondered how this man was the Captain of the Royal Guard. 

“Never mind, damn this, I’m not babysitting you,” Gon said, pulling away from the bench. “The taxi is on its way. _Wait here._ That’s an order. Take the taxi to the hotel.” 

Gon put his left foot into the stirrup, but paused and turned back to Yeong when the other man stumbled to his feet as if to follow. “No. I’m going to mount Maximus, ride away, and you aren’t going to follow me, understand?” 

“You should mount me instead,” Yeong slurred just as Gon’s right foot left the ground. 

The moment the words were out of Yeong’s mouth Gon’s foot slipped out of the stirrup and he began to fall backwards, arms wind-milling, accidently hitting Maximus and sending her running (thankfully not in the direction of traffic). Unable to get his balance, the King landed in a pile of mud. 

He looked up at Yeong from the ground, the drunk man’s concerned face upside down. He didn’t even register the mud in his hair and all down his back side, too shocked by what Yeong had said. 

The King’s mouth opened and closed, as useless as a fish on land. 

Now he remembered why he’d put a no drinking rule on Yeong. Alcohol turned him into a ho. A classless ho without any shame. 

“Got sum mud,” Yeong said helpfully, pointing in the vague direction of his face. “’S right there.” 

Yeong promptly sat down in the mud right next to him, and began picking at clumps of dirt in Gon’s hair. He was the opposite of gentle, yanking at the strands and wholly uncoordinated. It was enough to get Gon back in action. He slapped Yeong’s hands away and sat up, his hands slipping and sliding under him, but he manged. The first thing he did was check on Maximus, who’d thankfully come to a holt eight or so meters away and was eyeing Yeong with distrust. The second thing he did was shove Yeong, causing him to topple over and land face first in the same patch of mud. Yeong had caked mud all over her beautiful white fur by making her startle and run through it, so he deserved it. 

Yeong didn’t bother getting up, just turned his head, closed his eyes, muttered, “’S warm,” and again looked ready to fall asleep. 

Gon ran a frustrated hand down his face, and immediately regretted it – he'd covered it in mud. Yeong was so getting beheaded for this. Him and his entire family, cousins and distant relatives included. He clambered to his feet, knocking off what mud he could, and looked down at that useless Captain of his Guard, the leader of what was supposedly the most elite force in Corea. It was a damn good job nobody from their world could see Yeong now, it would be a national embarrassment. 

“Yeong, get up _now_. You need to be executed.” 

Yeong cracked open an eye and peered up at him. “No.” 

Gon took a long, deep breath in an effort to calm down. “If you do not get up right now, I’ll fire you from your position and stick you in the stables mucking out the stalls for the rest of your life.” 

Yeong considered it, and didn’t get up. 

The sound of a car pulling up behind them reached his ears, and Gon turned to see an uneasy looking taxi driver watching them from a rolled down window. “You the one who called?” 

He didn’t look thrilled about it. 

“Yes,” Gon said, “We’re going to-” 

“Sorry, not dirty like that you ain’t. Can’t have you making a mess in here.” The taxi driver gave Maximus an odd look, and drove off. For a few moments, Gon looked after the car with a mounting ill temper, crotchety from this whole situation. He was leaving a bad review, a scathingly bad review. He didn’t care how petulant it was. 

“Fine,” he growled to the taxi, to Yeong, to the universe. Gon stomped over to Maximus, took her reins in hand, and brought her over to Yeong. He gave him one last chance, standing over his prone from with the air of an executioner. “Are you getting up?” 

Yeong turned his face back into the mud. 

Gon had no choice. He picked Yeong up, bridle style. Yeong startled, his arms and legs flinging in every direction and rolling his body. Doing his best to keep a tight grip on him but feeling him begin to slip from his arms, Gon set him heavily on Maximus’s saddle just in time. He was heavier than he looked. He might be smaller in size than Gon, but the man worked out like he was aiming for a world title. 

Now back to sitting, Yeong slumped in the saddle like nothing had happened. Thankfully he kept his balance and didn’t fall off. Gon was sure it was only a short window of time though, so he got up behind Yeong and wrapped one arm around him, the other gripping Maximus’s reins. She gave a ninny of displeasure, turning her head back to give him a reproachful look. 

“Sorry,” he told her with genuine feeling, patting her neck with the hand holding the reins. Two people on one horse was not good for the horse's back, especially not considering Maximus’s age. “I swear I will make it up to you. I will force Yeong to make it up to you.” 

Maximus, though as stubborn and prideful as her owner, didn’t cause any more fuss and followed Gon’s instructions, heading to the hotel at a steady walk. They got a lot of strange looks from passers-by. 

If the hotel staff were shocked at two mud covered men rolling up with a horse, they didn’t show it. The joys of being obscenely wealthy was that people very rarely questioned anything Gon did. He jumped down, pulled Yeong off Maximus far more gently than he deserved, and arranged for a member of hotel staff to give her a bath, clean her saddle and bridle, and take her back to The Alley. 

“You can hose him down and leave him on the doorstep,” he said of Yeong. Despite his words though, he put an arm around the heavily intoxicated man’s shoulders and carefully led him to the lifts. It was slow going, Yeong stumbling every-which way, almost bringing Gon with him a few times, but they made it. The door closed, and Gon pushed the button to take them to their suite on the top floor. Yeong collapsed against a mirrored wall, looking like he was about to start vomiting any second. Gon backed away. He may be covered in mud, but any sort of bodily fluid was asking far too much of him. 

Thankfully there was a ding, and the doors opened. Gon looked to Yeong expectantly, but he wasn’t moving. It was with a sigh that Gon picked him back up and carried him inside. This time Yeong seemed to have a better understanding of what was happening and didn’t resist, relaxed against Gon’s chest. “I swear if you vomit on me I am dropping you. Out a window.” 

Yeong snuggled into his hold, and Gon’s heart most certainly didn’t flutter. 

Then Yeong vomited over the both of them, and Gon dropped him where he stood with a disgusted yell. He ran for the bathroom like the hounds of Hell were after him. 

*** 

This was becoming a familiar sight, Gon mused, watching Yeong sleep off his drunkenness in the suite’s second bedroom. After arriving back he’d cleaned himself up, but refused to touch Yeong. He was _not_ dealing with vomit any more than he had to. He deserved to rot in his rancid clothes, caked in sick and mud. He had however at least been nice enough to put him into bed. Well, he’d called a member of staff to do it for him. He had been freshly showered; he wasn’t about to dirty himself again. The staff member had muttered about it under his breath, thinking Gon couldn’t hear, but Gon didn’t call him out on it. Both the man stuck putting Yeong to bed and the cleaning staff were going to hate Yeong – this was the second set of sheets he’d ruined. 

Yeong had slept through the night and all day. It was late afternoon, approaching evening, and Yeong was still snoring away as if he didn’t have an important job to do. So Gon also had a staff member bring up a bucket of ice water. 

“Yeongie,” Gon said faux-playfully from the doorway to Yeong’s bedroom. “Are you awake?” 

A small sleepy groan was his only answer. 

“Yeongie,” he called again. 

Yeong didn’t reply, so Gon made his way into the room. 

Pinching his nose with one hand, and carrying the bucket in the other, he made his way to the bed an unsuspecting Yeong was sleeping in. He positioned himself carefully, so his could soak Yeong’s entire body but get him mostly in the head. Very, very carefully so as to not wake him, Gon pulled back his covers (wrinkling his nose know he couldn't clamp it closed), and emptied the whole bucket onto him. 

Yeong shot awake with a startled yell, arms flying as if to defend himself from an attacker, rolling as he moved to get up and away, and fell straight off the bed with a heavy thud. There was a moment’s pause in which nobody moved and nothing happened, then the top of Yeong’s head cautiously came up over the bed. His eyes were startled and rounded, partially covered by his fringe; the water having removed what gel the pillow hadn’t. He looked adorable, peeking to see the danger. His eyes landed on Gon’s legs, then travelled up and up to his face. 

“I’ll have you beheaded,” is what Gon said the moment their eyes met. 

Yeong ducked his head, water dripping from his hair and nose. “It would be a mercy killing, your Majesty.” 

Gon cocked an eyebrow. “Remember this time, do you?” 

“Yes, your Majesty,” Yeong said quietly, still looking at the floor. Gon threw the empty bucket away and stalked round the bed to Yeong. He still smelled, but it wasn’t as bad now thanks to the King’s impromptu bath. 

“Any more body shots off hookers?” 

Yeong was red and flushed in his cheeks, despite shivering from the ice water against his skin. “No, your Majesty. I promise nothing happened.” 

“Hmm,” Gon hummed, purposefully like he didn’t believe him. Yeong looked up, looking sad and pathetic and unfairly cute. 

“Go shower,” Gon instructed. “Then you can strip the bed. I don’t see why anyone should do it for you.” 

Yeong nodded solemnly, got up, and hurried away. 

As he cleaned himself up, Gon called room service to deliver dinner for two to the suite, and requested for new bed covers for Yeong. 

They ate quietly for the most part, but Gon was sure to let his Captain know that Tae Eul had called in the morning to confirm Eun Seob had reached hers safely, and let him know that she wanted to go to the pub with them today to do her own questioning. 

“I told her to not tell them she’s a cop,” Gon explained over dinner, sitting prime and proper and dressed immaculately. “We’re going to say she’s my cousin visiting from Ulsan.” 

Yeong nodded dutifully from where he was hunched over his noodles, and said nothing. He looked as forlorn as the only passenger on a sinking ship not to be given a lifejacket. 

Gon looked him over critically. He was in a black knit jumper a size too big, putting his neck and parts of his shoulders on display. His collar bone stood out starkly against the dark fabric, accompanied by the little tease of strong arms. Certainly not how he usually dressed. Was there someone he was trying to impress, or had he just pulled it on without consideration? His hair was back to being styled in the way he always kept it, so clearly he’d put some effort into his appearance. 

Gon thought back to yesterday, when Yeong’s eyes had lingered on that one man. Had something happened there? Something that made Yeong want to show off his body a little? 

The twinge of annoyance he felt irked Gon. Why was Gon annoyed at the thought? He’s probably just mad his Captain’s attention seemed to be elsewhere. Yeong _should_ be focusing on his job, not some random man he met less than twenty-four hours ago. And since Gon was his job, he’s who he should be focused on. 

...He was really being back and forth about this whole thing, wasn’t he? Especially after getting mad that Yeong was all over the place. How hypocritical. 

He’d decided that he wanted Yeong to be happy, right? And that meant Gon couldn’t be so selfish. Not on this matter. He had to work on it. Just because Yeong had been in his life for so long, had dedicated his life to him, it didn’t give Gon an excuse to get possessive over him. Yeong was a grown man, he could talk to whoever he wanted. Gon needed to accept that he couldn’t be his main focus 24/7/365. 

Honestly, this whole ‘putting others first’ business sucked. Yeong had better realise the sacrifices Gon was making for him. Because this certainly felt like a sacrifice, even if most people would call it character growth. 

“She’ll be here in about twenty minutes, and we’ll leave together,” Gon said, determining to allow Yeong his own life, separate from work. 

Yeong, oblivious to the King’s thoughts, simply nodded again and the continued their meal in silence. 

After dinner there was a knock, and Gon sent Yeong to let the maid in. She made up Yeong’s bed and took the dirtied sheets he’d stripped along with their finished plates, utilities and their dirty clothes, gone as quickly as she’d entered. Yeong, now showered and changed and no longer immune to the smell, scrunched up his nose when she passed by with the sheets and apologised. She’d smiled, nodded, told him no problem, and looked like she didn’t mean a word of it. Gon had no idea how much cleaning staff where paid, but they probably all needed a raise. 

A short while later there was another knock. Gon glanced at his watch and got up to get it, giving Tae Eul a friendly welcome and waving her in. 

“Damn,” she said with a low whistle, looking around the place with the same dumbfounded expression she’d had exploring the palace. Once she’d took in the high ceilings, one of a kind art works, the Ascensión Latorre sofa and bespoke Nobilis rug she turned a raised eyebrow on Gon. “This is swanky.” 

She greeted Yeong, then stopped short as her eyes went passed him to the floor to ceiling windows. “You have your own private swimming pool?” 

Gon looked out onto the living-room-come-dining-room's large balcony, where indeed a private pool was. “Yep. There’s a sauna too. And a gym.” 

Tae Eul shook her head, a wonderous look on her face. “You have too much money.” 

“There’s no such thing,” Gon corrected her. “Ready to leave? Or do you want to hang around for a bit?” 

Tae Eul looked tempted, eyeing the pool and giant TV, but shook her head. “I’m still on the clock. Can’t afford to slack off.” 

“Fair enough,” Gon shrugged, as Tae Eul gave the room one last sweeping look. 

Gon headed for the hallway adjacent to the living-room, and Tae Eul side-eyed him while he slipped on his shoes. 

“Some of us have to work for a living.” Her tone was joking, amusement on her face, and Gon smiled right back. Yeong passed her to get his own shoes, and whatever he said was too quiet for Gon to hear, but it made Tae Eul laugh and shoot him a glance. Gon huffed. 

“Yes, it must be hard to be a peasant. If you need some charity I’m very giving.” 

Tae Eul rolled her eyes and barged passed, opening the door and stepping out first. “Come on. We’re taking my car.” 

They headed down to the car park in companionable silence (and solemn silence on Yeong’s part), and Gon relaxed in the front passenger seat as Tae Eul started up the engine. She glanced at Yeong through the rear-view mirror before putting her foot on the pedal. “Why are you so sullen today? Did a bad man steal your puppy?” 

“I lost my dignity,” Yeong sighed truthfully. “Again.” 

“You mean that kiss?” Tae Eul asked with a grin as she pulled out of her spot. “I’ve got to say, that was certainly something. Have you read the comments?” 

Gon glanced in the rear-view too, and saw Yeong looking like she’d sucker punched him. “I didn’t mean that. But thanks for reminding me. And no, I don’t want to.” 

“Your loss,” Tae Eul said, honking her horn angrily when someone pulled out in front of her with no warning. The man in the other car yelled something you shouldn’t call a lady (even if she barely qualified), but hurried off with a pale face when Tae Eul flashed her badge. “Dick,” she grumbled, then glanced to Yeong like nothing had happened. “Some of them are pretty funny, you should give them a go.” Yeong chose to ignore her, and she gave him a look of weary amusement. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, then?” 

“...Nothing.” Yeong promptly looked out the window, with every intention of ignoring her for the rest of the ride. 

Usually, this would be where Gon stepped in to tease him, but Yeong’s _’You should mount me instead’_ had been echoing in his head on and off all night and day, and he flushed every time. Right now was no different, and he thanked his lucky stars Tae Eul was too focused on the road to notice. 

“Did the video get any comments that could be the killer?” He asked instead. In the back seat, Yeong slumped with relief. 

“Not sure yet,” Tae Eul said. “I have Shin Jae and Jangmi going through the comment sections on the most popular uploads of it, but it will take time and they keep coming in. It’s more popular than the last one, so congrats, because sequels usually suck.” 

He might not have the adoration in the Republic of Korea that he did in the Kingdom of Corea, but it seemed he still grabbed attention wherever he went. That was sort of a consolation prize, right? While not all attention was good attention, Gon certainly liked seeing himself in the spotlight. Though the fact that somehow being a King and being ‘gay’ got him the same treatment: both admires and people wanting to murder him, yet all keeping a certain distance, was almost comical in its irony. He’d never have equated them before all this. 

They came to a stop at a set of traffic lights, and Tae Eul turned her head to look at him. “I have to say, you did one Hell of a job. If I were him I’d be frothing at the month in rage. I reckon you likely hit a lot of his pressure points.” 

Gon gave her a smug look. “Of course I did an excellent job, I’m incapable of doing otherwise.” 

Tae Eul hummed noncommittedly. “Just make sure you watch your back from now on.” She glanced at Yeong too. “Both of you. He’ll be out for blood.” 

“We will,” Gon promised her. 

For the rest of the drive, they kept the conversation light, Yeong remaining silent as they swapped quips and friendly insults back and forth. 

By the time they arrived, Gon was in a good mood and pulled the pub’s door open for the two of them. This time he actually held it open, Tae Eul and Yeong going in first and Gon bringing up the rear without anyone getting hit. The servants at the palace would be proud of him. (Or worried about losing their jobs. He wasn’t entirely sure.) 

Tae Eul was looking around with the same fascination as she did the hotel room, though for a different reason. Another brand new place for her. 

“It’s... not what I expected,” she confessed, her eyes trailing over the patrons. “It just looks like any place I go to.” 

Yeong looked a rather affronted, and his tone was a little sharp. “What exactly were you expecting? An orgy?” 

Tae Eul flushed, looking caught-out. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just meant...” She looked at Gon for help, but he did nothing, interested in the answer himself. Realising she was on her own, she scratched her arm awkwardly when she turned to Yeong again. “I don’t know what I meant.” 

Yeong didn’t look like he believed her. “Despite the stereotypes, gay men aren’t mindless animals controlled by their libido. W-They are people to.” 

Gon caught the near slip, and he knew Tae Eul did as well when her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and he was right there with her in surprise. Gon could tell Yeong knew they’d caught it too. The Captain stood awkwardly for a moment, about turned and went to sit at a booth. 

Yeong had just come so close to saying it out loud for the second time, and Gon was again disappointed when he didn’t. Though perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t say it with an audience. As much as Gon liked Tae Eul, they hadn’t known her that long, and Yeong didn’t feel the connection Gon did after a decade and a half of almost obsession. 

“Is he...?” Tae Eul asked Gon once Yeong was out of hearing range. 

Gon bit his lip, unwilling to out Yeong before Yeong had even come out himself but also not knowing how to answer her. 

Tae Eul just read the expression on his face, and cast an apologetic look Yeong’s way. “I’ll say sorry, and get on with the questioning. Maybe you should talk with him?” 

They headed over to Yeong together, but he’d already caught attention, a small group of men around him. They stepped up anyway, Tae Eul looking slightly unsure but friendly. 

The men greeted them cheerfully. “You shouldn’t leave your boyfriend alone again,” one of them said to Gon with an impish grin, “someone might steal him.” 

“Yeah right,” Gon scoffed cockily. “As if he’d ever leave this. Right, Yeongie?” 

“I don't know,” said Yeong, faux-serious. “Beom Seok here has abs you could wash clothes on.” 

Okay, Gon may have been a little insulted. “Well, if being a housewife is your aspiration...” 

On closer inspection, Gon realised this Beom Seok character was the same man Yeong had been eyeing last night. Gon gave him a suspicious look. He’d better not have gotten any ideas about _his_ Unbreakable Sword. He looked like trouble, and Gon didn’t trust him. 

He promptly sat down next to Yeong, putting his arm around him, marking his territory and glaring everyone down. Even Tae Eul, who rolled her eyes and smacked him upside the head. 

“Ow!” He cried, removing his arm from Yeong’s shoulders to rub at the sore spot. “That’s just uncalled for, you wench.” 

“Are you not going to introduce me?” She asked pointedly, and Gon recoiled when she pulled a band off her wrist and tied her hair up. “Have you already forgotten your manners? You’ve only been in Seoul for a week.” 

Right, that, the plan. “I don’t know these people, though apparently Yeong does.” He shot Yeong a displeased look before continuing. “But fine. You, strangers, this is my cousin. She’s annoying and violent, and visiting for a few days.” 

“Hello,” Tae Eul said, all bright smiles. “I’m Tae Eul, nice to meet you.” 

“Hi,” most of the men said, looking confused. One glanced to Gon. 

“Your cousin came to visit... and you took her to a gay district?” 

Well, when he says it like _that_ it sounds odd, doesn’t it? 

“You must have a really accepting family,” Beom Seok said, and Gon get him a snooty look on principle, but knocked it off when Yeong elbowed him in the ribs. 

Gon gave him a tight smile. “Something like that.” _Or a dead one._

“I’ll get everyone a round,” Tae Eul said, sensing the sudden tension in the air and wanting to escape. Traitor. “Yeong, come help me carry them.” 

Everyone was immediately cheered with the promise of a free beer, except Yeong who gave her an odd look but got up to follow her at her prompting. 

Gon watched them go, knowing she was taking the opportunity to apologise, and turned back to the men. He really hoped she didn’t push it though, or mention the big G word, when Yeong shut her down. He had enough faith in her intelligence. 

Gon turned back to his rival. No, damnit, not rival, Yeong wasn’t some medieval princess they were competing against each other for in combat for his hand in marriage. (Though the idea of Yeong in a dress was pretty hilarious. He could perfectly picture Yeong’s look of utter outrage and contempt.) Gon just didn’t like the idea of Yeong being distracted while they were in a foreign world, searching for two killers. That’s all. 

“Did Yeong get up to anything last night?” He asked, a little reluctant to hear the answer. 

“Worried he’ll cheat?” Beom Seok asked, a smirk on his stupid face. The sheer arrogance of his guy. He’s lucky they weren’t in Corea, or he’d have him beheaded for talking to the King like that. 

Gon could only scowl at him. He really didn’t like this guy. “No. I just want to make sure he was okay.” 

“He was fine,” another man with hair dyed blond said, taking pity on the ‘worrying boyfriend’. “A few of us tried hitting on him, but he just kept talking about you.” Gon tried not to feel as pleased as he did about that, but he couldn’t keep the look of smug satisfaction off his face. “He was mostly sat with two other guys. That hooker and his friend.” 

“Min Hyuk and Chang Ho,” Gon said automatically. 

The blond shrugged. “I don’t know their names.” 

Apparently, word of free drinks had gotten around, because just then Yeong and Tae Eul got back to the table, but they weren’t alone. They’d picked up a gathering of moochers. 

“I can’t afford it!” Tae Eul was saying, and almost dropped a few glasses. There were five, clutched against her chest. Gon quickly got up to grab two from her before they hit the ground and shattered. “Not all of us are swimming in money.” 

“I am,” Gon said, feeling generous after hearing about Yeong’s night. “Free round on me for everyone!” 

The guys around them whooped, and really getting in the spirit, Gon thought _what the Hell_ and raised his voice to carry across the pub. “All drinks are on me for the next hour!” 

“How much money do you have?!” Blondie spluttered, eyes as wide as saucers as the entire pub cheered. 

“Everyone’s going to get hammered as quickly as possible within the hour,” Beom Seok said, eyeing him with interest. “That's a lot of drinks.” 

“Pocket change,” Gon waved it off heedlessly, enjoying rubbing it into his stupid handsome face. Damn dick looked like a model. 

As the crowd toasted him while getting their free drinks, Gon got into the celebratory atmosphere and getting one over on Beom Seok and, forgetting himself for a moment, went to take Yeong’s hand. But just as he’d done the times before, Yeong didn’t allow him to, instead shifting away just out of reach. 

It was a bit of an emotional reprisal, but Gon kept up the façade, his expression not cracking when his supposed boyfriend wouldn’t hold his hand. Leaving Yeong sitting Gon began making rounds, introducing everyone to Tae Eul as his cousin who was staying with him for a few days. 

Once that was over and everyone was satisfied with beer (except the barman who was inundated with orders) and loose tongued, he stepped back and let her take over questioning. Instead, he returned to the booth where Yeong still was, now sat alone as everyone drifted off into their friend groups, and watched the other man pick his nails. 

“So,” Gon began as he sat opposite him, keeping his tone conversational. “Did you get up to anything yesterday, when you were here alone?” 

He thought of Beom Seok, but determinedly didn’t try to find him in the crowd just to make sure he was far enough away. Gon was rather proud at himself when he kept his gaze steady on Yeong. “Get up to any _one_ ,” he asked, even though he knew the answer. He wanted to hear it from Yeong. Yeong was shaking his head, only a mild rosiness to his cheeks. 

“I spent some time with Min Hyuk and Chang Ho. It was... fun.” 

Gon tried to think about what the three would get up to, or talk about. Their personalities were so drastically different from Yeong’s. Jokingly he asked, “Paint each other’s nails and talk about boys?” 

Yeong rolled his eyes at the teasing. “No. Mostly, we talked about you.” 

“Me?” Gon’s curiosity was piqued. He knew that Yeong talked about him when people had tried hitting on him (and just how many people was that, anyway?), but he hadn’t realised he’d played the starring role of Yeong’s conversation the whole time. “Obviously only good things, since there are no bad.” 

“They’re curious about us,” Yeong said. “Where we suddenly appeared from, and why you’re so vocal about gay rights, but told them you're straight.” 

“Well I don’t think anyone will think I’m straight now.” Yeong flushed a little, but didn’t avert his eyes. “What were they saying?” 

“Mostly positive stuff. Min Hyuk thinks you’re a bit too full of yourself, but I think he likes you. Chang Ho wants to get you naked.” 

“Min Hyuk wants to get you naked,” Gon replied back, and Yeong rolled his eyes. 

“He’s just joking around. Mostly. I think.” Yeong’s head titled, like it always did when met with a conundrum. 

At this moment, a stranger fell into the seat next to Gon. “Are you the rich guy getting everyone drunk?” 

Gon startled, and Yeong made an aborted move to get up, his intense gaze locked on the man, gauging his threat level. 

“That’s me,” Gon said carefully, glancing him over. “Who are you?” 

“Nobody, really, just wanted to say hi.” His tone was very flirty, and he was leaning in uncomfortably close to Gon. 

“ _Bye,_ ” Yeong said very forcefully, glaring the man down. The man looked at Yeong like he was looking at a pile of dirt, then at Gon like he expected Gon to chastise Yeong. Gon just stared back, until the man got uncomfortable and moved on with a huff of anger. “Gold-digger,” Yeong grumbled into his drink, narrowed eyes following the man as he left. 

Gon was quick to recover and move on – it was a familiar situation. He usually dealt with people wanting to get close for his money, power and prestige on a daily basis. 

Forgetting about it already, Gon took a drink, and considered the current situation. They were sat in a gay pub, Yeong had spent hours alone here last night with gay friends, and he’d already come close to verbally admitting his own orientation twice in a short time span. Gon wanted him to admit it, for himself, not Gon. He wanted Yeong to be happy, and live freely. (But not with Beom Seok, he was off limits.) It couldn’t be nice, or healthy, keeping such a big part of his life bottled up. 

“Listen, Yeong,” Gon began hesitantly. “About what you almost said yesterday, after we were on stage and before Min Hyuk showed up, and earlier with Tae Eul...” 

Gon drifted off, because Yeong’s expression had immediately shut down. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Yeong said firmly, a warning in him voice. 

“Buy _why?_ ” Gon questioned, not yet discouraged. “You must know by now that I won’t judge you. Why won’t you just say it?" 

“ _Drop it_ ,” Yeong commanded, with just as much authority behind it as Gon’s own orders carried. Yeong was not Gon’s King, nor was Gon once of Yeong’s guards, and ordinarily he wouldn’t accept Yeong speaking to him in such a way, but today he just sighed and finished his drink. 

He didn’t understand why Yeong was so reluctant to tell him. Gon wasn’t asking him to shout it from the rooftops and tell everyone, he just wanted Yeong to tell _him_. Surely he knew Gon wouldn’t spread it around. Did he not really trust him? Even though they’ve been friends of twenty-five years? 

It created a thorny atmosphere that lasted for the rest of their time here, and when Tae Eul had done questioning and returned to them, she picked up on in straight away. She was delicate in the way she asked if they were ready to leave, and didn’t try to argue when Yeong said he’d make his own way back. 

“Gon?” She asked. “Are you coming?” 

Gon shook his head. “No, it’s fine. You just go home.” 

She looked between them, a little flustered and unsure if she should get involved to try to sooth things, but after a few moments, she nodded. “Ok. Well, you might as well both walk me out.” 

She was probably hoping the fresh night air would lift their moods, and Gon hoped it would too, but Yeong still looked sour as he buttoned up his coat against the cold breeze. On the way out Gon had handed a lot of money over to the barman, plus extra to cover another half-hour of drinking. He almost expected Yeong to leave in that short span of time, but he'd waited with Tae Eul to Gon's relief, and the three stepped out onto the street together. 

“Well, then...” Tae Eul said, looking was wrong-footed as Gon felt. “I didn’t get much info, possibly a few leads but I doubt it. I’ll type it all up and get back to you tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” Gon smiled at her, but it was more of a rough tug at his lips. 

Tae Eul gave them a concerned look, but said no more other than to bid them goodnight and left for her car. 

They waved Tae Eul off. Or rather, Gon waved her off and Yeong stood there as rigid as a deep rooted tree. 

Once she’d disappeared amongst the people, Gon turned to Yeong, a question on his mind. 

“Why wouldn’t you hold my hand earlier?” Or any time, he didn’t bother to add. 

He watched, serious and focused, as Yeong’s face flashed through a range of emotions before settling on frightened honesty. Yeong met his gaze, and Gon wasn’t able to decipher the look in his eyes. 

“Because I wanted to hold your hand.” Yeong’s voice was soft, melancholy, like he was admitting to something of great immorality he deserved to be cast out for. 

“What?” Gon asked, not expecting that, not understanding why Yeong looked and sounded the way he did. “What do you mean?” 

Yeong shook his head, his expression closing off, and he turned away. “Forget it.” 

“I can’t forget it, can I? You just said it,” Gon said, agitated. He reached out to turn Yeong to face him, but Yeong wouldn’t budge. He shrugged off Gon’s hand roughly. “What do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” Yeong said heatedly, his voice dark, and began walking away with quick strides. Gon hurried after him, his longer legs helping him keep pace. Yeong shot him a disgruntled look and didn’t stop. 

“It’s not nothing if it’s about me, why do you want to hold my hand?” He got in front of Yeong, walking backwards, and gave him a grin like he was teasing a child with his first crush. “Do you _like_ me, Yeongie?” 

He was not expecting the response. He thought Yeong would roll his eyes, maybe call him an idiot. But Yeong looked _furious_. He stormed passed the King, knocking his shoulder quite painfully, apparently with every intention of abandoning Gon in the street. 

Gon genuinely didn't know how to react as the shock halted his feet. This was not a situation he’d been in before. Yeong _never_ acted like this. If he was mad at the King he’d give him the silent treatment. He’d never looked at him like that before, with so much ferocity. He’d certainly never been so rough with Gon, banging into him like that. 

After a moment of indecision, Gon ran after him. Did Yeong actually like him? I mean, what was there not to like, right? Gon was handsome, and smart, and charming. Not to mention they spent all their time together. If Yeong was gay, and by now Gon knew he was, it wouldn’t be surprising if he’d developed a crush. As his body raced after Yeong, his mind raced with how to deal with this situation. Does he let him down gently? Pretend this whole night just didn’t happen? Yeong could get over a silly crush easily enough, right? It didn’t have to put a strain on their friendship or work relationship. Gon could spend some time encouraging him to speak with the men at the clubs and bars. He’d likely just been too focused on Gon, especially since they were in a foreign world where there was no distraction from him, so it was only natural he developed a crush. 

“Yeong!” He called, catching up and grabbing his arm to halt him. “Come on, you don’t have to be embarrassed because you’ve got a little crush on me. Everybody does!” 

“A crush?” Yeong turned to him incredulously. “You think I have a _crush_ on you?” Yeong laughed, but there was no humour to it. The sound rang in Gon’s ears, the most uncomfortable sound he’d heard. It made him uneasy, but he tried to stamp it down with his usual aloofness. 

“Well what else is it?” Gon huffed, still a little offended despite the confusion and unease. How did they get to this point, where Yeong was beginning to feel like a stranger to him? “Why do you keep acting so strangely around me? First you get drunk and hit on me, they you hate the idea of touching me, and now this. Why do you keep behaving like this?” 

Yeong ripped his arm from Gon’s grasp and stepped up in his face, breathing heavy and a look of pure anger on his face. Gon dropped his arm from where it still floated near him and staggered back a step at the force of it. 

_“Because you stupid, unobservant, moronic bastard I’m in love with you!”_ Yeong yelled, panting with the amount of pent up emotion he was unleashing, shoulders heaving like he’d run a marathon. 

Gon froze completely, body still and mind blank. 

Yeong’s stance fell from anger, his face morphing to shock and then to fear as he absorbed his own words. 

As Yeong began to shake Gon still couldn’t think, couldn’t react. 

Tears were in Yeong’s eyes now, full of regret and more fear than Gon had ever seen in them, ever even thought possible from his Unbreakable Sword. Some part of him knew he should comfort Yeong, but the thought was like a distant echo trying to reach him from a thick mist. 

For what was possibly a few seconds or an eternity neither man moved nor spoke, both processing the words that had just been put between them like a physical thing, like a barrier keeping them on opposite sides of an ocean. 

“You’re... not joking,” Gon finally said, and it wasn’t a question. They both knew it wasn’t. “You...? How long?” 

“That’s it?” Yeong asked, a little hysterical and very disappointed, still shaking and tears pouring. He sniffed, and rubbed roughly at his eyes with his sleeve. Then again when the tears were immediately replaced by a greater number. He gave up when the second attempt did nothing. 

“What else could I ask? What do you want me to say?” Gon was beginning to feel a bit hysterical himself. Yeong, his Yeong who’s been by his side since Gon was eight, was _in love_ with him? How had this happened? How had he not noticed? 

His heart was beating fast, like it was confined too tightly in his chest. He felt panicked, nauseous, on edge. He wanted to be out of this situation, to rewind time just a minute and forget this ever happened. 

Images of Yeong throughout the years flashed before his eyes, like they said life did on your deathbed. He saw a little boy of only four taking a toy sword from him with a look of wonder, tears staining both of their cheeks, but each other's tears stopping the other’s. He remembered feeling, for the first time since watching his father bleed out, like maybe it would be okay, maybe he wasn’t alone as he’d thought because here was this little kid determined to be his friend. 

He remembered Yeong at six years old excitedly barging into the young King’s room, with no regard for etiquette or protocol, to proudly show him his missing tooth that had been wobbling for the past few days, showing the King how grown up his was now. His beaming smile missing one tooth, and Gon showing him his own latest gap where the adult tooth hadn’t grown in yet. 

Seven year old Yeong riding a horse for the first time, clinging to its neck even at a walking pace, dwarfed by the large animal and terrified but trying his best to not show it in front of the King who’d insisted the younger begin riding lessons. Gon had laughed from his own horse, but encouraged him until Yeong had sat straight in the saddle and kept pace with the King. 

Gon being twelve years old and thinking he was so grown up, telling his stubborn little shadow that he was too old to play with an eight year old, Yeong stamping his feet and yelling he was always going to follow Gon – anywhere, everywhere, even across the world. 

Eleven year old Yeong with far too much confidence for his age telling him that he’d join the military so he could learn to protect his King, never mind the size difference between them now Gon was fifteen and a few years into puberty. The teenager had pat him on the head, and said “Of course you will,” while he wondered sadly when the kid’s devotion would come to an end, as it inevitably would. 

An awkward, puberty ridden thirteen year old Yeong Gon had found hiding in the palace gardens, upset (but pretending not to be) because the other kids at school called him a liar when he’d proudly told them his best friend is the King. 

(When Yeong graduated high school, Gon had turned up unannounced during the graduation ceremony to huge commotion and the mute shock of the bullies, and Yeong had never looked so happy, beaming wide and toothily at Gon, and Gon thought the scolding he got from Lady Noh afterwards was worth that smile.) 

He remembered the goodbye when Yeong left for the Navy that was so painful the King followed him out to sea. Prince Buyeong and Lady Noh had spent every second leading up to him stepping on military ground trying to convince him to stay, but no amount of reasoning or begging or near-threats were enough to stop him following his Unbreakable Sword, his best (only) friend. 

He remembered the day Yeong was promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard, the tapping of rain on the palace windows as he pledged with all the sincerity in his heart to protect Gon, to give his life to the King. 

And Gon felt weak, like perhaps his legs were no longer strong enough to keep him standing. His own eyes were wet as he looked at that same Yeong stood before him now, looking so uncharacteristically small and vulnerable, and Gon hated that sight; it was so wrong for his Unbreakable Sword to look so broken. 

“I’m sorry, your Majesty.” His voice was as small as he looked, no longer attempting to stop the tears streaming from his eyes, and Gon’s heart clenched but he couldn’t form words. Couldn’t think, didn’t know what to think. 

He hated the silence between them, but he didn’t know how to break it. He stood in that empty silence as Yeong walked away, not calling out to stop him, not reaching out to hold him back. 

He wouldn’t go far, Gon knew he wouldn’t go far. Yeong had been protecting him since they were children, always keeping him safe. Gon was so sure of Yeong’s devotion, his ability and desire to protect him that he never bothered wearing bulletproof vests or taking extra security measures, because he knew if Yeong wasn’t in sight, he was in the shadows, keeping him safe. 

So why did he feel so far away? Even when they were in different worlds the distance wasn’t this untraversable, it didn’t ache like this. 

Yeong was gone from his sight, and only the heavy silence remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Gon does a lot of soul searching. He might also be a Disney Princess.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out I didn’t fall off the face of the Earth never to be seen again. Who’d have thunk? Sorry it took so long to update, I needed to get my shit together. Shit is not together, but it is closer. 
> 
> Also, you see that ‘confused bisexual Gon’ tag? Yeah, I wasn’t kidding about that. Now suffer through 30k words of it, because that’s literally the chapter.

Things were strange between them in a way they never had been before. They went back to the hotel separately; Gon straight from the bar, and Yeong not arriving back until the early hours of the morning. He quietly opened Gon’s bedroom door to check on him, and Gon pretended to be asleep. He hadn’t slept all night however, mind racing and thoughts crashing like waves on a breaker, unable to get Yeong’s confession out of his mind. 

When he woke up in the late morning, having only been able to drift off into a fitful sleep with the rising sun, he startled awake from the grip of a nightmare. They were a common occurrence for him, so it wasn’t unexpected, but this one had seemed to be particularly vivid. As used to nightmares and sleepless nights as he was, it was always magnified by stress. By the time he had groggily blinked himself back to consciousness he felt like he’d been awake for days, exhausted and drained and feeling even shittier than he did all night long. Bad thoughts and memories lingered, each competing for the forefront spot in his mind. And as skilled as he’d become at compartmentalizing, on days like this he was fruitlessly scrambling to rebuild his shattered defences. He just had to live with the memories of blood and pain and fear until his subconscious decided to give him a break. Sometimes it took days. At least it no longer took weeks, as it did as a child. 

Yeong had tried insisting multiple times over the years that Gon be allowed therapy to deal with his past trauma, but the palace always refused. If Gon were to be in therapy and it leaked, they couldn’t risk it making their King, and therefore country, look weak. 

While usually Gon would shrug off the idea of therapy with easy dismissal, in times like these when all he could see was his father’s blank dead eyes and endlessly bleeding body soaking everything around him, asking him why he didn’t do more, why he didn’t stop his uncle and save him, Gon couldn’t deny to himself that he needed help. He would never seek it out, though, the risk it would be used against him was too high. 

During these days, when the world was red and reeked of fear, and he was as scared as he was at eight years old with a flute crushing his windpipe and carotid artery, and wet, coppery blood leaking from his neck, he seriously considered just leaving everything behind. Abdicating the throne and moving as far away from Corea as he could physically get. 

The thoughts of running away never lasted long, and he always felt silly and childish about it afterwards, but he still thought them. Still sometimes daydreamed about a normal life. 

Yeong said he had PTSD. Gon disagreed verbally, and agreed silently. 

Yeong... he was an anchor for when the whirlwind started. Gon wasn’t even sure if the other man knew it, or at least to what extent he kept Gon grounded, kept him from falling too deep into his own mind. Yeong had been the first person to break him out of that grief immediately following his father’s murder. Despite Lady Noh and Prince Buyeong’s best efforts, neither had been able to break through the towering walls of despair and horror his young mind had created. Gon didn’t even understand how Yeong did it, how Yeong had made him smile and laugh through his tears, but he had, and he’d continued to do so. 

Some people turned to therapy, some turned to drink and drugs, but Gon turned to Yeong. Yeong was a constant stability in his life that he could always rely on to be there, his presence a silent comfort. The thoughts and memories were never as bad when Yeong was in his sight. 

He was scared, terrified, that he’d screwed it all up now. Would he still have Yeong to anchor him, to keep him from slipping too deeply into his own mind? To cut through these obsessive thought patterns Gon would get lost in? 

He lay in bed for a long time, staring up at the ceiling but not really seeing it. The sun streamed through the curtains he hadn’t bothered to close before crawling into bed the night before, and it irritated his eyes and heated his skin until he was uncomfortably clammy, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to get out of bed today. Preferably he didn’t want to get out of bed ever again. 

Was Yeong still in bed? Was he asleep? Gon doubted it. Yeong had a schedule he liked to keep to, come hell or high water. He was most likely in the gym, keeping his body in peak condition so he could keep Gon safe. 

What a mess they had landed in. How had last night even happened? Why couldn’t he have woken up this morning to find it had all been an odd dream, that he could tell Yeong about it and the younger man would scoff and tell him he’d rather eat a bowl of live hornets than date Gon. (Though, really, he should be so honoured. Gon was Corea’s most eligible bachelor; Yeong was only second. Actually, third this year. Some popular actor had overtaken his usual spot.) 

There was a bird out on the master suite’s balcony being far more noisy than such a tiny animal had any right to be, and Gon rolled over, bringing the pillow over his head so he could continue to be miserable in quiet peace. His brain couldn't decide if it wanted to focus on the memory of his dead father, or Yeong, and so it merged the two images together until it was Yeong on the floor amongst scatted shards of brightly coloured glass, dulled compared to the red running from his body. Gon squeezed his already shut eyes even tighter, trying to force the horrific image away. 

“0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,” Gon muttered to himself, “153, 370, 371, 407, 1634, 8208, 9474, 54748, 92727, 93084, 548834.” Yeong – his father? Both? – was still dead behind his eyelids, and Gon tried harder to force himself to list base 10 narcissistic numbers, to concentrate on just the numbers, to picture each one in his mind as if he was writing it in his study, chalk in hand, staining his fingers bone white. Yeong would probably find it funny he chose narcissistic numbers, maybe that’s why he did it. “1741725, 4210818, 9800817, 9926315, 24678050, 24678051, 885-” 

The sound of his phone ringing broke him off mid number, and Gon startled, hand immediately darting out to reach for it, but he didn’t know where it was. He had gone to sleep in his clothes, and hadn’t emptied his pockets first. Unsurprisingly, it had fallen out during the night. He blindly felt around himself, hand scanning under the covers for it. By the time his fingers nudged against it, he was surprised it was still ringing. He pulled it up to his face, opening his eyes just a crack to stare at the screen. _Eun Seob,_ it read. Gon groaned and threw it away. He didn’t care where it landed. Eun Seob looked like Yeong, and he didn’t want to think of Yeong right now - not real Yeong nor Nightmare Yeong. 

He should have thrown it at that damn bird. Who did it think it was, singing on his balcony like all was right with the world? He hoped a cat ate it. 

_”I’m in love with you!”_

Gon moaned into his pillow, and he would admit it was pathetic. He was pathetic. Yeong’s voice echoed in his head, until all the numbers were gone and replaced with dreaded words of love dripping with red, a quiet background flute music nearly completely drowned out by shattering glass as the floor stained with his father’s life. He felt like glass was raining down on him again, little shards digging into his skin, burying too deep to ever pluck them all out. 

He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling again. It was too perfect. No cracks, or dirt, or areas that needed repainting. No imperfections. A room fit for a King. A King who wasn’t meant to have any cracks. Gon felt like he needed repainting. Something to cover up all the breaks and fractures. 

Maybe a cat should eat him. 

…After it ate the bird, because it was still annoying. 

He turned his head to the large, floor to ceiling windows, and squinted through the sunlight to see the bird outside. It was small and dull grey and utterly unremarkable. Nobody would care if a cat ate it, not like they would if it was bright and colourful and beautiful. Humans... were dicks. 

People would care if a cat ate him, his life was bright and full of attention, people following and documenting his every move. They’d probably also be confused as to how a cat manged to eat him. 

Gon laughed at his own stupid thoughts. It wasn’t really a happy laugh though. More of a ‘it’s-either-laugh-or-cry' laugh. 

Maybe he should get a cat. He’d never had a pet before. He’d been gifted Jindos a few times, but they were always sent off to well established breeders, though two were kept back as faux guard dogs at the palace. They weren’t Gon’s dogs though, instead raised by trained handlers. They were rather like him, actually; Corean treasures put on display inside the palace. They were shown off too, like decorative ornaments. Sometimes he and they posed together. Funny, wasn’t it? The King with all his wealth and opulence and adoration on the same level as a dog. 

The bird still hadn't let up its irritating chirping, and Gon’s hand unconsciously strayed to his neck, fingers running over the scar his uncle had given him. He didn’t touch it very often, didn’t like such a physical reminder. 

One of the reasons Yeong was qualified for his position was because he was one of a few handful of people Gon could tolerate touching him. And the Captain of the Royal Guard _had_ to touch him. Every month Gon ran through safety procedures with the Royal Guard in preparation of an attack, where Yeong would have to press close, pulling him down or to the side, covering him with his body, or any other action Yeong deemed necessary to perfect until the action became second nature to them both. Honestly, he’d had Yeong on top of him so often over the years Gon would joke it was indecent as they weren’t married. Yeong would huff and grumble and usually tell him to act professionally, but on those very rare occasions when the Captain was in a bright mood he’d joke back he only wanted Gon for his body – he already had a wife and two kids at home. 

(He liked it when Yeong would have fun with him, when he would peek over that barrier of King and subject even if just for a minute to laugh and jest like old times.) 

Even though it was a joke, Gon had never been able to imagine his stoic Yeong with a wife and children. Though, now he knew a wife would never be in the picture. Would children, some day? To tell the truth, the times when Gon did think of Yeong’s future, the only person he saw in it was himself. 

Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he’d always just naturally assumed Yeong would be unmoving and unchanging by his side, a permanent fixture in Gon’s own life as Gon himself grew and matured, and most likely took a wife. Yeong would be a little speck of eternity, unaffected by time as he kept in Gon’s shadow, protecting him until Gon’s death. (Which would be of old age, if Yeong had any say in it – and he did.) 

He never thought passed that. Even if Yeong remained his Unbreakable Sword until Gon died, he’d never stopped to think what Yeong would then do once he no longer had his King to protect. 

Outside, the bird got louder, an insistent avian alarm clock. Gon grabbed the pillow over his head and threw it at the window. The bird stopped, and Gon sighed his relief, but it was far too short lived as moments later the chirping began again. With no sound barrier, Gon gave up. He sat up against the headboard, covers falling to his waist. The tiny animal that could fit in the palm of his hand had won. Where’s a cat when you need one? 

At least the nightmare was gone. Mostly. 

He listened to see if he could hear anything from inside the suite – sounds of Yeong going about his routine. Nothing. Casting a last look to the bird, Gon got out of bed and headed out the room, pausing only to pick up his phone. Silence met him. Yeong was not using the suite’s gym, so he was most likely in the hotel’s communal one. He checked through the suite anyway, leaving Yeong’s room until last just in case he was wrong and the younger man was sleeping. He didn’t want to see him right now, an irrational part of him afraid of what would happen if they came face to face. What that fear was, he didn’t know. Awkwardness? No... a loss? That sounded more right. He was worried that the relationship they did have between them could be lost. 

The simple answer was that he didn’t want Yeong to have feelings for him. He didn’t want to look at Yeong day after day knowing how he felt, hating those words echoing in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. It was selfish, of course, because it was Yeong who was suffering more than him, but Gon had never pretended to not be a selfish person. This was a situation he’d rather avoid than face head on. For as long as he could, which hopefully would be all of today, he wanted to avoid it. Even just one day away from Yeong, where he could think this through, figure out what should happen next. (Though there was, as always, still that part of him that wanted Yeong around, even now.) 

Gon didn’t know if he could understand Yeong’s feelings towards him. He had never been in love before. Perhaps he’d once stood on the foundation of it, though. 

He’d met this woman once during his time at university, and even now after all these years he thought he could have loved her. He was 20, full of pride and bravado and with the ego of a young man who had the world at his feet. She was beautiful and came and went like an autumn leaf caught in a soft gust of wind. She had a smile that made the sun dim in shame because it could never match her radiance, and eyes that shined even brighter. Sometimes when she laughed, a full, deep belly laugh like she didn’t care who heard, she’d snort so inelegantly and never get embarrassed. She just embraced life and relished in the best moments it offered her. Her wit was as sharp as her intellect, and Gon was infatuated from the moment she refused to give up the best seat in the lecture hall to him. They had never quite dated, just danced around each other with light flirting, then before he knew it she had gone to finish her education abroad, having received an offer she’d have been a fool to turn down. He had missed her, and deeply missed the way she disregarded his title of King for the man beneath the crown. 

In a way she actually reminded him of Yeong, in the yearly days before age and duty put a layer of professionalism between them. A time when Yeong would just barge into Gon’s rooms unannounced loudly complaining about a teacher or assignment, or when he’d argue Gon’s demands when he thought them stupid or impractical, how he’d roll his eyes and groan when Lady Noh would lecture him on correct protocol and etiquette. There was a time when Yeong would only bow to Gon in ridiculously exaggerated ways, and Gon would get in just as much trouble for laughing instead of scolding Yeong himself. 

He didn’t know when it all changed. There was no exact moment he could put his finger on. It was gradual, as duties set in and they matured to ages where they couldn’t use youth as an excuse to blur the barrier between their uneven statuses any longer. The lectures Yeong received became reprimands, and then reprimands became punishments, and Gon was no longer ‘hyung’ but ‘your Majesty’. He was no longer allowed to be Gon to his best friend, he had to be King to his subject. 

Over time Yeong seemed to fall into his new role well, making no complaints about the forced shift in their once close friendship. Gon had adjusted, but never fully became used to it. But with time, he had stopped treating Yeong the way he once did and began to treat him as a bodyguard. It wasn’t wrong, because that’s exactly what Yeong is, but it became so easy to allow Yeong to fade into the background – Gon could be sat in his study for hours working and completely forget Yeong’s existence even though he was stood two metres away the entire time. That never would have happened when they were younger, Gon would have been unable to concentrate on his work, too distracted by his friend’s presence. Yeong had become a wallflower Gon noticed only when he had to, when Yeong’s job called for it. 

Yeong wasn’t in his room. Gon shut the door and walked away. 

*** 

The day passed slowly, Yeong’s absence as palpable as the silence that seemed to encircle and trap him in his own mind. There was not a single sign of Yeong, though he didn’t doubt for a moment that his Unbreakable Sword had found some way of checking in on him from the shadows his name derived from. 

It was possibly the most inactive day Gon had ever had, each second ticking away like a fraction of eternity. He spent most of it just sat down, thinking confusing thoughts that had yet to find an ending. He was the type to easily get lost in his thoughts, hours passing like minutes, but this time he was aware of every dragging second, as if time itself was mocking him. A few times, he thought time had stopped again, that Lee Lim must be crossing between worlds, only for the second hand on his watch to tick again. 

Every now and then he’d stare at his phone, the urge to call Yeong lapping and receding like waves. He wanted to speak to him, but had no idea what he’d say. 

What could he possibly say in this situation? How does he navigate it? Every time he looked at Yeong’s name on his phone screen his heart raced at the thought that this could be the breakdown of their friendship, that it had been damaged in a way neither of them knew how to fix. He didn’t want that; the idea left a sense of deep dread in his heart. Yeong mattered to him, more than he liked to admit. He literally placed his life in Yeong’s hands on a daily basis, and giving someone that sort of trust did not come cheaply. 

He honestly didn’t know what the word was to describe Yeong, if there even was a word in any language, because how did you describe that? When you felt so unshakingly confident in that person that even as a high-risk target you didn’t even bother with a bulletproof vest, because you just knew as deep down as your heart that they would protect you. He trusted Yeong with every aspect of his life, including his life itself, and Yeong had never once done anything to sow seeds of doubt into that trust. From when his friend was four years old he’d stood by Gon’s side, looking out for him right from the very beginning. There was no word suitable or strong enough to convey the complete trust, understanding and feeling of safety he placed in Yeong. 

Gon didn’t want to lose that. He _couldn’t._ He doesn’t know what he’d do if Yeong was no longer in his life. 

He held his phone, grip white-knuckle tight, just looking at Yeong’s name but not pressing call, his thumb hovering over the button as uselessly as he was feeling. 

When a text came through, the noise like a blast in the silence he’d become accustomed too, he almost jumped out his skin, his phone falling out of his hand onto the sofa. For one tiny moment he thought it was Yeong, but when he scooped it back up his heart beat with disappointment as he simultaneously sagged with relief when he saw Tae Eul’s name. He tapped on the message to bring it up. 

_Another body found. Male, approx. mid-twenties, not yet ID’d. Looks like our guy’s work._

Gon grimaced. Right, he’d almost forgotten. 

He stared at the message for a few moments, Yeong finally, blessedly, out of his brain. It was a distraction. And, at this point, almost a duty. 

Making a quick decision, Gon pulled himself up and headed to his room to shower and change. Some poor bastard had been murdered while he’s been sat around moping and feeling sorry for himself, wasting the minutes and hours another had been robbed of. He’d told Tae Eul he’d help, and after meeting and talking with so many of the gay community, he wanted to help them too. This guy, whoever he was, deserved to go down. If nothing else, Gon would make sure that happened. 

He found himself back in the first club he and Yeong had visited within an hour. Although never a fan of such places, he wanted the anonymity it gave, the dim overhead lights that made your eyes strain and brightly flashing strobe lights that made it hard to focus on a face, people too distracted with dancing or too drunk to pay him any mind, the heavy thump of music helping to drown out his thoughts and the voices of anyone around him who might recognise him. A veil and excuse to block out the world. 

While it felt odd being here without Yeong, the iterated songs – jarringly in opposition of the hotel’s silence – as deafeningly loud and obnoxious as before created a somewhat successful cacophony with the constant stream of Yeong Yeong Yeong his mind was still far too occupied with, keeping him from focusing too strongly on just one. It was a migraine waiting to happen, but he’d take it over the alternative. 

Min Hyuk was at the club, because of course he was. It was a Friday night, most likely excellent for uncouth business. He was at the bar, his outfit as eye-catching in its design and shine as ever, getting flirty with a pepper-haired man at minimum twice his age. Gon spoke to a few club goers and failed to get any new information, many of them too drunk on alcohol or adrenaline to pay any close attention to his questions. He kept an eye on Min Hyuk as well, witnessing him disappear with a man and reappear alone counting bills twice before Min Hyuk set his sights on him and sauntered over with an easy grin and fluid hips. 

“Where’s your better looking half? The two of you are usually joined at the...” Min Hyuk looked down at Gon’s crotch, his eyes lingering unashamedly. His voice was a little raspy for reasons Gon would rather not ponder. “I could buy him a drink, maybe give him a freebie handjob.” 

“There’s a, er, _stain_ on your shirt,” Was Gon’s reply, waving in the vague direction of the man’s waistline. He could feel his cheeks were reddening, knowing exactly what that wet patch was. 

With not a shred of embarrassment Min Hyuk pulled the bottom of his shirt out to look, the necklaces around his chest, exposed by a deep V in his partially open shirt, clinking against one another. “So there is. Honestly, some men’s aim, am I right? Believe it or not he was trying for my mouth.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you overshare?” Gon asked, looking anywhere but at the cum stain. 

“Many, many times, my financially advantaged friend.” Min Hyuk wrapped his arm through Gon’s as if Gon were accompanying him to a ball, though more in line with Min Hyuk their actual destination was the bar, and Gon allowed him to steer them along without complaint. “I’ll have a rum and coke,” he told the bartended, and then nodded to Gon. “My new sugar daddy is paying.” 

Gon didn’t even bother responding to that, just added a soju to the order and took out some money without argument. 

“So, your boyfriend isn’t going to mind you buying drinks for another man?” Min Hyuk asked once he was sipping the beverage. “He doesn’t strike me as the sharing is caring type. Only child?” 

“Let’s not talk about him right now,” Gon grumbled into his bottle, pulling off the cap like it was personally offensive. 

This, of course, caused Min Hyuk to have the opposite reaction to what Gon wanted, the exuberantly dressed man perking up like it was Christmas morning. “Oooh, do I smell drama? Spill the deets, sis.” 

Gon’s grumble turned into a glare, staring down the neck of glass bottle like it had been the one to cause all his current troubles. “I am not telling you anything about my personal life, and I am certainly not your sister.” 

Min Hyuk just laughed, and slapped him arm. “Aren’t you grumpy today? Come on, tell aunty Min Hyuk what happened. Is he not putting out? Did he hook up with another guy? Did he complain your dick isn’t up to standard? Is _his_ dick not big enough to satisfy?” 

Gon choked on the alcohol. Min Hyuk, the utter arse, didn’t even help, just stood there all placid looking waiting for an answer. As if Gon would ever give him details of his sex life. 

“I hate you,” Gon managed to force out between the hacking coughs, his face red but not from the choking. 

Min Hyuk clicked his tongue and gave a disappointed shake of his head. “Honestly, the two of you are such prudes. He wouldn’t tell me anything about your sex life either. I mean, seriously, all I know about you is that you both get off on him calling you your Majesty. I need more. I need _gossip._ Feed my obsessive need for drama.” 

“There is no sex life!” Gon snapped, finally getting his breathing under control. “He’s not my boyfriend!” Gon shouldn’t be saying this. They’d agreed to fake it. But he just couldn’t stop the words that fell faster than the beat of strobe lights that lit up their skin red, turquoise, blue, orange. Truthfully he didn’t really want to spill his thoughts, but he needed to vent, needed to put the confusion into vocalized words because maybe that would help him sort out his mess of a mind. 

Min Hyuk blinked, looking shocked, his widened eyes their natural brown today. For once he genuinely sounded concerned when he asked, “You didn’t actually break up, did you?” 

“No, we didn’t _break up_ , because he was _never_ my boyfriend!” Gon snapped, banging his bottle down on the bar in frustration and causing a few people around them to jump, Min Hyuk included. “Because I’m not gay!” 

He had finally silenced Min Hyuk, the younger man looking lost for anything to say. Any other time Gon would have lorded over such a victory, but the stress over the past day had finally gotten to him. Apparently, all it took was one bottle of soju for it all to come pouring out. What a lightweight. 

Gon’s voice faltered, tone lowering to something near vulnerable. “I’m not Goddamn gay and he is, and he’s in love with me and I _don’t know what the Hell to do_. He’s a man, and my subordinate, and he’s _Yeong_ , and I – and I love him, I do, but not like that. I... need another drink.” 

He downed what was left of the one he had, and ordered two more. Min Hyuk watched him silently, clutching his own glass with a pensive expression on his face. 

Gon downed the two drinks in record time and waved for another. He needed to vent, and to do that he needed a little liquid courage. He didn’t speak again until he was half-way through his fourth bottle. 

“Yeong’s gay and in love with me, and I’m straight and not in love with him, because I... because I’m scared,” he realised, his voice dropping, losing all the anger and confusion and melting into shocked realisation. “Holy shit, the idea of loving him is terrifying.” 

Was that really his issue? That he was afraid of, what? Commitment? No, he committed to things every damn day. What scared him was having somebody who could never truly stand shoulder to shoulder with him loving him. Somebody like Yeong, or somebody like an autumn leaf. 

No – no. He was just confusing himself. What was he thinking? He didn’t want to be with Yeong. Not even one tiny part of him desired that. It was the alcohol, he decided. It was doing weird stuff to his brain. 

Yeah, that was it. “I don’t love Yeong,” he muttered into the rim of his bottle. The breath created a dull whistle as if it was trying to talk back, but a bottle could give neither agreement nor disagreement. Stupid soju. Isn’t it supposed to fix problems? 

Yeong was good at fixing his problems. He’d put Gon’s head right, or pull him out of trouble, or help him to bed the odd time Gon drank to excess. Yeong was a good friend, the best friend he could ask for, he was always calm and rational, and had nice arms. Wait – no. Damnit. 

“Rainbow Hooker, you’re like the fairy-godmother of gays,” Gon said gloomily, as miserable as a storm cloud. “Make it all make sense.” 

Min Hyuk looked genuinely thrown by the melt down, and in a club surrounded by people laughing and shouting and dancing and making out under the flashing lights wasn’t the best place for a gay crisis, but here they were and Min Hyuk was listening regardless. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as Gon liked to grumble about. “So, you mean you two really aren’t a couple?” 

Gon shook his head, and then regretted it as it made his brain feel funny. It's possible he’d drank too much too quickly. His head was beginning to throb in time with the music. 

“But... you like him?” Min Hyuk inquired seriously, either oblivious or uncaring of Gon’s dizzy spell. 

Gon didn’t know how to answer that, his thoughts inconsistent with each stab of pain. “No. Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I like women,” he said helplessly. 

Min Hyuk looked entirely unimpressed as he folded his arms across his thin, jewelled chest. He had nipple piercings, Gon noticed absently. “You know the two aren’t mutually exclusive, right? You can like both men and women. Does the term ’bisexual’ ring any bells?” 

“Bisexual?” Gon said sceptically, as if even the idea of it was ridiculous. Him? Lee Gon? Being bisexual? The King of Corea liking the Captain of the Royal Guard? It seemed preposterous. He’s a King, a leader, an authority figure. 

“I’m not bisexual,” he said, writing it off without sparing it a thought because it didn’t even need considering. Somebody like Gon does not feel attraction to men. “I think I would have noticed.” 

“Eh, maybe not,” Min Hyuk shrugged, as if the idea wasn’t preposterous. “Bisexuality doesn’t have to be an even split 50/50 in liking boobs and dick. You could be 90% attracted to women, 10% attracted to men. Besides, everyone is just assumed to be straight, so since you do like women as expected maybe you could have overlooked liking men too.” 

The look Gon gave him was far from amiable, even the headache couldn’t stop him from letting Min Hyuk know how stupid he sounded with a single look. It was one he’d become well versed in over years of dealing with politicians proposing the most absurd bills. “I’m not an idiot. I know what attraction feels like.” 

Min Hyuk raised a challenging eyebrow, looking far too smug. “So why are you unsure if you’re attracted to Yeong.” 

And Gon? Well, he had no good answer for that, and when somebody was able to upend him he turned defensive or sarcastic in retaliation. 

“So, what? You think I should confess my undying love for Yeong and ride off into the sunset together?” Gon asked, his voice mocking and thick with sarcasm. 

“Hell no, of course not!” Min Hyuk said, much to Gon’s surprise. He snorted when he saw Gon’s startled look. “As much as it’d be nice for Yeong, you get a choice, Money Bags. You have the power of bisexuality. You can happily settle down with a woman and live an easy life. What kind of batshit insane moron would choose differently?” He shook his head.” Don’t make your life more complicated than it needs to be.” 

Gon was not expecting that answer, not from someone as out and proud as Min Hyuk. “So you’re saying I should just... be selfish, ignore him and his feelings, and go on with my life?” 

“Sometimes it's okay to be selfish,” Min Hyuk said like it was a lesson hard learned, his voice heavy. “Do you think any man in this place would chose to be gay if he had an alternative? Don’t be an idiot. Being gay is _hard_. It’s fearing walking down the street because you could get jumped, it’s desperately trying to hide it from your family because you could be thrown out onto the streets, it’s pretending to be straight with your friends so you still have friends, it’s pretending to be straight with co-workers so you aren’t fired and left destitute, it’s being careful about sneaking men into your own home so your landlord doesn’t catch on and leave you homeless.” Min Hyuk shook his head again, and met Gon’s eyes. “If you can avoid that, if you can live a straight life, grab onto it as tightly as you can and don’t let go. And look, not to insult your honour or some shit, but if you date a man? Somewhere down the line it's going to become too much stress and you’ll leave him for a woman. Doesn’t matter how nice of a guy you are, nobody's going to put up with all the crap a same-sex relationship brings you if they don’t have to. It will become too much, and even if you don’t mean to break the guy’s heart, you will.” 

Gon was holding his bottle in both hands, unconsciously hugging it to his chest. Min Hyuk’s words and an echoed memory of Yeong’s moon shaped eyes caused by his bright laughter mingling together and making his chest hurt. His head was hurting worse too, now an unrelenting drilling rather than stabbing beats. 

“Yeong can’t avoid it, though,” Gon said, as quiet and mournful as if he were by a graveside. “How could I live happily while he’s just left behind? He deserves to be happy, and to be loved.” 

Min Hyuk gave a small shrug, and he didn’t look happy, but rather accepting of an inevitability. “Yeong’s gay, you’re not. It’s not your fault you got a better hand in life. Don’t live miserably just because of guilt.” 

“But I wouldn’t be miserable with Yeong,” Gon said, not realising exactly what he’d said until the words were already out in the open between them. His chest tightened, and his eyes prickled, but he fought it all down as that truth stuck him like a bolt of lightning. 

He wouldn’t be miserable with Yeong. Yeong... Yeong could make him happy. The thought derailed any others, a mix of longing and fear, and when Min Hyuk spoke again Gon latched onto his voice because he didn’t know how to deal with thinking that being with Yeong could make him happy. His immediate reaction was the shut the thought down, pretend he’d never had it. He went immediately into denial mode, and clung to it. 

“What exactly are you expecting?” Min Hyuk asked, somewhere between sympathy and condescension. “Marriage and a cute little house by the seaside? Not going to happen.” 

“Well, I mean, more sprawling palace by the seaside than little house,” Gon said, blatantly ignoring the first half of the sentence. 

“Of course, your Majesty, how could I forget,” Min Hyuk drawled with far too much sass. “Do you want me to make you a dress for your wedding? Because I could make you a dress,” his rainbow fairy-godmother said a too sardonically. 

“Cinderella’s fairy-godmother was a lot nicer,” Gon grumbled. “And I’m not bisexual. Stop trying to make me think I’m something I’m not.” 

“...I bet you 50 million won you are.” 

For a few moments the only sound between them was the blaring music, then Gon raised a finely sculpted eyebrow at him, just the wrong side of mocking. “Do you even have 50 million won?” 

Min Hyuk deflated with a pout, not looking pleased about it. “No. But I would when you lost.” 

“You know what,” Gon said, holding out his hand to be shook and feeling far more confident than he had any right to be given his current situation. (Perhaps his bravado had gone too far, but his cockiness was ingrained into his DNA by this point.) “Fine. Convince me I’m bisexual and I’ll give you 50 million won. Fail to convince me, and I get to ask something of you that I’ll decide at a later date.” 

Min Hyuk lit up, actually bouncing on the balls of his feet. Gon could practically see won signs shinning in his eyes as if they were in a cartoon. Gon was confident that would disappear in no time when he won. Min Hyuk gripped his hand, his grasp surprisingly strong, the metal of his rings cool against Gon’s skin. 

“Ok, experiment time!” Min Hyuk clapped his hands together like an overly excited seal, rings clinking and a bit of glitter shimming to the ground. "Simple question to answer; do you think Yeong's attractive?" 

"Well he-" Gon began, but was cut off. 

"Yes or no, pick one. Do you think that Yeong is attractive?" 

"It's not that simple," Gon said, beginning to feel frustrated already. Why was Min Hyuk trying to make it seem like it was that simple? (Maybe, just maybe, he ought to take the fact that such a simple question held such a complicated answer as the sign he should just hand over the money now, but Gon was bull-headed and stubborn as a mule.) "Yes, he's attractive, but that doesn't mean I'm attracted to him, I just have working eyes." 

"Fine," Min Hyuk rolled his own eyes like Gon was a toddler who wouldn’t accept the easy answer and kept on asking ‘why’. "Imagine him nude, where do your thoughts go?" 

Gon flushed, his cheeks burning, aghast. "I'm not thinking of him like that!" 

"Why not?" Min Hyuk shrugged. "It’s not going to cause you any harm. And he'll never know." 

"I am not imagining him naked," Gon said firmly, and he might have stamped his foot if he were younger. “He’s my friend, its improper.” 

"Don't be a pussy," Min Hyuk scolded, crossing his skinny arms over his equally skinny chest, "and imagine your friend naked." 

"Fine!" Gon snapped, not stopping to contemplate just how quickly he gave in. "But it’s dumb." 

He had seen Yeong naked a fair few times, of course. Mostly in the communal showers in the Navy, but also twice around the palace when he'd gone barging into Yeong's rooms not caring about his state of dress he may be in because he had to rant about something. Yeong had turned red and scrambled to cover himself the first time it happened, and yelled and threw something the second time. What he had thrown Gon had no idea, because he’d been rather distracted by unexpected dick, which he was sure everyone could agree was the worst type of dick. He’d had a sore, red spot on his head for three days. When Lady Noh inquired, he’d told her he’d gotten into a fight with a duck that had taken up residence in one of the palace's ponds. Oddly, she didn’t believe that. 

"I'm thinking," Gon said, impatient at this dumb little game and tapping his foot. He pushed down the urge to rub his temple where the object had hit, the memory of pain amplified by his headache – which was thankfully starting to subside a little. "And I don't care." 

"Okay, but are you thinking in a boring way, or a fun way?" 

"Fun way?" Gon laughed like the whole thing was a joke. "You mean in nothing but a party hat and Santa socks?" 

Min Hyuk rolled his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t get stuck. "You know what I mean. In a sexual way." 

He had never seen Yeong naked in a sexual way, no. The closest he'd come was the odd time he'd noticed Yeong sporting a random boner, but that was just puberty for boys and he'd gracefully gave no indication of noticing. He'd been there, and knew for himself how embarrassing it was. 

"Try it," Min Hyuk urged. "Picture him jerking off in the shower." 

"I'm not doing that!" Gon gasped, utterly scandalised. A flash of that odd feeling that felt rather like grief, which he’d thought must be a sense of loss, went through him again. He didn’t understand why now of all times. 

"Do it," Min Hyuk ordered like a man used to being obeyed, his eyes narrowing to slits. Bossy git. Gon did not like taking orders, especially not from little pipsqueaks. 

But for some reason he’d likely never understand, Gon did as he was told and closed his eyes. Doing his best to ignore that uncomfortable feeling rearing up inside, he focused his thoughts on Yeong’s face. The beauty marks on his nose, the bow of his lips, the sharp corners of his eyes. 

He took one of those past memories of Yeong showering in the Navy, and changed the scene. He used Gon’s own shower in his rooms at the palace, added in the sounds of Yeong panting half-way into a workout, and because seeing Yeong under a shower had always been brief used memories of Yeong in the rain, hair flattened and raindrops running down his cheeks, dropping off his nose and chin to imagine how the water would slide over his body, dipping into abs and running over his muscled arms. Little droplets skittering over his pecks and riding over his dusky nipples, and holy shit why was he finding this so hot? 

Min Hyuk was getting into his damn head, that's what the problem was. Gon opened his eyes before his brain which he was ordinarily so in control of turned treacherous and tried dipping below fantasy-Yeong’s waistline, to that finely sculpted arse water drops would probably bounce off. 

"Well, you look like your enjoying yourself," Rainbow Hooker grinned, snapping Gon back to reality after his thoughts began to drift again. 

He glared at Min Hyuk to cover his blush, pushing thoughts of Yeong away – far, far away. "Stop it. You're doing this on purpose." 

"Doing what on purpose?" Min Hyuk asked innocently, hands behind his back and rocking on his heels. "I can't put thoughts into your head. Whatever you're seeing, I assure you that it's all you." A sordid smile crept onto his face, one Gon was sure he usually used on his customers. It made Gon squirm in an entirely unpleasant way. "Did you think of his dick, hard and full and in his hand, slowly jerking off with little huffs of pleasure?" 

Gon was sure he must be redder than a tomato right now, his face certainly felt hot. "No," he said honestly, and if he squeaked the word out, well, there was nobody who mattered to hear it. 

Min Hyuk tutted, looking very disappointed in him. "Give it a go, I'm telling you you'll like it." 

“I am _not_ imagining that! It’s bad enough that I-” he caught himself before he gave away too much. Min Hyuk was the absolute last person he was going to describe his thoughts to. “I am not perving on my friend, okay?” Not more than he already had, anyway. Dear God it’s a good job Yeong will never know about this. 

“Feeling a little more gay than when you walked in, though?” Min Hyuk asked, grinning ear to ear as he gave Gon a suggestive look. 

Gon huffed, and refused to answer. Did he, though? He would be lying to himself if he said that mental image did nothing for him, but with the stress of alternate universes and murderous uncles and serial killers it had been a while since he’d had sex, or even jerked off, so maybe he was just worked up and any even vaguely sexual thought would interest him. It’s not like thinking of Yeong had gotten him even remotely hard. He’d probably feel far more aroused if he’d swapped Yeong out for a hot woman. 

...Right? 

Yes. Definitely yes. Women were prepossessing, beautiful and warm and soft, and Gon had never doubted his attraction to them from a young age. Kissing a woman... well, thinking about it, it hadn’t been too different from kissing Yeong... 

When he’d kissed Yeong, it had felt like how he’s kissed before, with women who had fired up a heat inside him. Sharing a kiss with Yeong wasn’t any of that romance novel rubbish with fireworks, but it was a small tingling. A pleasant warmth. He assumed that was just the act, not the person. There was not a soul on Earth closer to him, who held more meaning to him, than Yeong; a boy then man who’d been by his side since childhood, who’d lifted him out of his darkest moment and never once abandoned him. It made sense that Yeong would be a warmth at his side, regardless of what action they were engaged in. 

It didn’t mean that he liked him, it didn’t that he liked men the same way he did women. 

Yeong was just... Yeong. He had this shine inside of him, to Gon’s eyes. Something dazzlingly bright, beautiful, warm and protective. A light that could never be blown out like a candle, but something everlasting and as magnificent as a supernova. He was something beyond any other person, they all appeared dull next to his brilliance. 

“Wow, the denial is strong with you, isn’t it?” Min Hyuk said. He spoke at exactly the wrong time, because the sound of his voice had Gon zeroing in on him, the craziest thought he’d had in a long while – and that was saying something – entering his head. 

There was always one way he could prove to himself he isn’t bisexual. All he had to do was kiss another guy, right? There’d be the same feeling he’d gotten from Yeong and the women he’d been with before, because it was simply caused by the act itself rather than the person, and that would be that. Heterosexuality proved. 

While Gon’s head was spinning with the idea, he was vaguely aware that Min Hyuk was still talking, though it was like listening to him from underwater. But Min Hyuk... for some reason, he was making the idea seem good. The crazy idea he’d likely regret even before committing to it. 

“Can I kiss you?” Gon asked, and that shut Min Hyuk up mid word. It must have been a very sudden, out of the blue question for him. Gon could scarcely believe he’d asked it himself. 

“Kiss... me?” Min Hyuk confirmed, looking and sounding thrown but not entirely put off by the idea if the way he was eyeing Gon was anything to go by. 

Gon shrugged a little shyly, already regretting it as predicted. He was nothing if not stubborn though, and he wasn’t going to back out of something he himself suggested. Even if it did make him feel like he needed his head checking because of it. 

“Okay then. Pucker up, pretty boy,” Min Hyuk smirked as please as anything, pursing his own lips and leaning in and up. He looked so ridiculous that Gon pulled away instead. This whole situation was stupid, wasn’t it? Gon only had to look at Min Hyuk to know this was only going to confirm his beliefs. The sight of Min Hyuk waiting for a kiss was in no way attractive to him, he may as well have suggested kissing a walrus. Though it was less his looks, and more the sensation he needed to prove to himself. He could put an end to this confusion now, all he had to do was lean down and kiss a prostitute. He’d better not give Gon mouth herpes or he’d find a fate far worse than a beheading for him. 

After a few moments of nothing, Min Hyuk groaned as if Gon had put huge mental strain on him, all of his dramatics poured into that one small vocalisation. “Well don’t get shy _now_. Not when it’s about to get good.” 

Gon decided it was best to just go for it, dive quick before his brain could draw up a convincing argument, so he leaned down and pressed his lips to Min Hyuk’s, vaguely hoping he wouldn’t come away coated in lip gloss or glitter. 

Min Hyuk gave a little ‘oh’ of surprise. It was likely testament to how much Gon wasn’t into it that he noticed Min Hyuk’s hand sneak up and away, phone clutched in it and pointing it at them. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, pulling away far enough to look at it. 

“Snapping a shot, duh,” Min Hyuk said. “Chang Ho is going to be so pissed off, like Hulk raging. He’s lusting after you so hard, it will be hilarious. He’s constantly missing out on the good stuff.” 

Gon considered arguing, not sure how eager he was to have any photographic proof of him kissing a man, but Min Hyuk pulled him down by the lapels and reconnected their lips, and Gon just thought _’fuck it, different universe’_ and made no protest. 

It occurred to him with growing discomfort while Min Hyuk was snapping photos from multiple angles and, let’s be realistic, probably taking a video too that kissing Min Hyuk wasn’t like kissing Yeong. There was nothing, just an awkward press of lips. Like kissing cardboard. It felt like a weight had dropped in his stomach, dread at what this meant. It was supposed to feel like other times, not like this. In desperation he grabbed Min Hyuk’s shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing his lips a little harder to his. It had to be a fluke, or maybe Yeong was a fluke. Kissing Yeong had only felt good because of the bond between them, so his brain misread the situation. There was definitely an explanation that didn’t involve turning Gon’s life on his head. He _knows_ himself, he couldn’t have gotten it so wrong. He couldn’t have misjudged his own identity his entire life. That was preposterous, _he knows who he is!_

Min Hyuk tried adding a little tongue, and Gon very quickly pulled away with a cut-off shout. “No! No no no, no thanks, not interested,” he said, backing off a step. He wiped away the gloss that had inevitably ended up on his lips and pretended he wasn’t panicking. This wasn’t conclusive proof. There was a reasonable answer to all of this, one that explained away the warm press of Yeong’s lips. “See? Definitely not bisexual.” 

His face was a mask, no real emotions slipping through, his voice kept even. He’d fooled many people before, and it worked again with Min Hyuk who didn’t notice the alarm behind his eyes. 

“Well, it means you aren’t attracted to _me_ , not that you aren’t attracted to Yeong.” Min Hyuk was unrelenting, and Gon groaned piteously like a man dragged out into the desert to die. 

“Stop making this more complicated than it needs to be,” he said (possibly whined). It wasn’t possible, was it? He couldn’t have missed something this big. Not realising Yeong’s sexuality was one thing, but his own? He couldn’t share Yeong’s thoughts or emotions, although given all their time together he _should_ have noticed Yeong was gay, but it was still understandable that he hadn’t. Yeong had never made it patent. But how could he miss his own sexuality? Could he have really been blind to having an attraction to men simply because he was attracted to women? It was true that people were expected to be straight, Gon in particular was encouraged to find some attraction to women. By his late twenties Lady Noh had begun hinting that he’d need to find a wife soon, and now he was in his thirties she would blatantly tell him he needed a Queen and heir to secure the future of the throne. It’s where his life was heading, and that’s something he had always known from young childhood. He’d never paused to think about men, and he most certainly had never been pushed to do so the same way he was with women. 

But as much as society could influence a person’s thoughts and actions, surely that was taking it too far? Surely it wasn’t realistic that he could reach his thirties entirely blind to such a huge part of himself, to his own desires. He was sure it couldn’t be true, all of this – Yeong, Min Hyuk, his overactive mind, it was just confusing him. In a day or two, maybe after a good night's sleep, everything would be clearer. He’d barely slept last night, so he wasn’t thinking at maximum capacity. 

Yeong... maybe this was all just for him? Maybe Gon was so scared of losing him that he was trying to convince himself he could fall in love with him. Maybe it was his desire for Yeong to be happy that had Gon trying to be what Yeong wanted. It made sense, in Gon’s head. He would do anything for Yeong, or at the very least try his hardest. 

Surely that’s what all this is. 

While Gon rethought his entire life, and every insight he’d ever self-reflected on, Min Hyuk paid his musings no mind because of course he was more interested in the result rather than the journey. 

“Have you tried kissing a woman you’re not attracted too?” he asked. “See if you have the same reaction.” 

Huh. That was an idea, wasn’t it? Maybe he could prove to himself that Yeong was a fluke, after all. 

What woman could he possibly kiss, though? The only person he could think of was Tae Eul, and Gon was 97% certain if he asked to kiss her, she’d knock him to the floor. He supposed he could ask Nari, but Eun Seob would die of a broken heart. Any of the Royal Gaurds were out of the question, that would be a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. His only other option would be to return to Corea and lay one on Lady Noh, but he’d sooner be eaten alive by bugs. (He didn’t even try contemplating Koo Seo Ryeong. She’d probably grab him by the balls and not let go.) 

Gon shook his head. It was a foolish idea to begin with; he couldn’t just go around kissing people until he’d satisfactorily convinced himself he’s straight. “I’m not kissing more people. I just...” He let out a noise of frustration, not able to find the words for what exactly he was feeling. One thing he did know is that he missed Yeong. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet but it felt like a month. “I don’t know what I need. I just want things to not be strained between Yeong and I. I want him back by my side. It’s been a day and I _miss_ him. 

Min Hyuk, useless fairy-godmother that he is, wasn’t helpful. “So why are you still here? Go talk to him, not me.” 

“I can’t,” Gon said, distressed and feeling beaten. “It’s complicated. I hurt him without even meaning to. Without even doing anything! And I know he doesn’t mean to make me feel bad, or guilty, or like any of this is my fault, but I do feel like that. And I... I don’t know how to fix this, how to say sorry.” Gon huffed out a rough sigh, feeling like he could scream or cry in frustration and upset. He’d even gotten to the point of questioning his own sexuality and kissing a man in an attempt to make it up to Yeong by giving him what he wants. Gon felt about ready to start yanking his hair, and he might have if only he wasn’t so vain. 

Min Hyuk, predictably, was of no help. 

“You could always suck his dick,” he said casually, like this was a reasonable solution to _anything_. “It’s the best apology for any guy.” 

Gon gave him a scandalised look, something which was quickly becoming a regular occurrence. What did he expect from a hooker though? 

“What?” Min Hyuk asked, like Gon was the odd one here. “Don’t know how? I could teach you.” 

Why did Gon even bother? What possessed him to think asking an actual prostitute for advice on literally anything was a good idea? 

Min Hyuk pouted at him when he didn’t even dignify his offer with a reply. “Fine, Yeong can be your tutor. Spoil sport.” 

Could Gon behead people in this world? Was that something he was allowed to do? Surely if he just explained his reasoning to Tae Eul she’d sweep it under the rug. 

“You are terrible at helping. Also, don’t _ever_ let Yeong see those photos.” By God, that is the very last thing Gon would need. Turning down a man in love with him because he’s not into men just for Yeong to see a photograph of Gon kissing some other man? Yeah, no. He’s not sure if Yeong would cry or shoot him, nor which would be the worse outcome. (He’d probably shoot him, let’s be honest.) 

Min Hyuk looked rather offended he’d even say it. “No shit. I wouldn’t do that; I like that sexy Navy man.” 

“Good,” Gon nodded, deciding to take him at face value – not that he had much choice in the matter. “And make sure Chang Ho says nothing about it to him.” 

“I’m really beginning to question how you view my character,” Min Hyuk deadpanned. 

“A relentless ho,” Gon said back. 

“A _loyal_ relentless ho,” Min Hyuk empathised. “I ain’t no flaky bitch.” 

A smile tugged at the corners of Gon’s lips, but he suppressed it. Best not let Min Hyuk know least he take it as Gon actually liking him. There were some things it was better Rainbow Hooker not know for Gon’s own sake. “Good. I care about Yeong, and I don’t want him getting hurt.” 

Min Hyuk saluted sloppily. “Aye, aye, King Gon.” 

And didn’t that sound weird? It’s been too long since he’d heard anyone but Yeong or Tae Eul refer to him as King in a conversation. Min Hyuk didn’t even know how right he was. 

“I’ll take my payment up front,” the man said, holding out an expectant hand. 

Gon didn’t even give the hand a cursory glance. “Nice try, but you haven’t convinced me yet.” 

“Stingy bastard,” Min Hyuk glared with amusement behind it. “I will get my money, I promise you that.” 

“I’ll hand over the money when you hand over that wedding dress,” Gon teased. “You know, never.” 

“I’ll make you admit you want Yeong’s dick if it’s the last thing I do,” Min Hyuk vowed. But his look flickered, something more morose taking its place and Gon’s recently lifted mood dampened at the expression. “I was serious, though. Choose the easy life. It’s where you’ll end up anyway, and you can cut out a lot of heartache for you and Yeong both if you accept it from the start.” 

The playful banter was dead and gone just like that, and Gon shifted uncomfortably. “I - It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not...” 

He drifted off, unable to get the word out. Denial was starting to feel like a lie. 

He put his soju, still a third full, on the bar top and didn’t look at Min Hyuk. “I need to get going.” 

As Gon turned to leave Min Hyuk called after him, “I’m very offended that you’re not attracted to me by the way! How can a man have such excellent, yet also such terrible, taste!” 

Gon’s lips pulled up into a small grin as he left. Maybe his rainbow fairy-godmother wasn’t so bad. 

Then he was struck dumb with the horrifying realisation that prior to kissing him, Min Hyuk had been sucking dick. 

Back in his suite, Gon went through three bottles of mouth wash and two tubes of toothpaste. He still felt unclean. 

*** 

Later that day Gon’s insistent, confused thoughts brought him to the hotel gym, where he found Yeong working out intensely. Had he been here all day? He couldn’t possibly have. He must have come back (if he even was here earlier as Gon assumed). Even Yeong, super-human he often seemed to be, couldn’t keep an all-day work out going. 

Gon didn’t immediately announce his presence, and very unusually for Yeong he didn’t notice him. For a while Gon just leaned on the doorframe and watched him. The place was otherwise empty, so he wasn’t disturbing anyone. That grief/loss/ _something_ feeling was back tenfold the moment he laid eyes on the object of his distress. 

Yeong was curling, though Gon couldn’t see the weight of the barbell. He was in a sleeveless hoodie, his arms on full display, and Gon watched them flex for a few long moments. He had looked at the male physique before, especially in the Navy – sometimes a Royal Guard, or even a rowing buddy. He liked seeing the men active, working out or performing physical activities, admired the way they moved and their muscles worked. He had never wanted to do anything with those men, however. It was perfectly possible to appreciate a person as attractive without actually being attracted to them. They had good bodies; it was good inspiration to work on his own, and he admired their determination to be the best that they could be. 

He’d never... well, maybe? Maybe there was a time or two when a guy had been doing push-ups and his mind teetered on the edge of inappropriate thoughts, but didn’t everyone have the odd intrusive thought? It didn’t mean anything. But there was one image that had stayed clear in his mind for the past 8 years. When Yeong had first returned from a separate mission with the Navy, after Gon hadn’t seen him for a few months, he’d found the man on palace grounds sparing with the then-Captain of the Royal Guard. Yeong had been quick and lithe and deadly, and for some reason the image of Yeong mid-kick, both feet off the ground, shirt riding up to tease a solid and firm yet slim waist with hips turned into the kick had frozen in time and implanted itself right into Gon’s brain. Yeong had a really nice waist, small and taut with smooth flawless skin. 

Yeong had stopped curling, his back to Gon but looking at him through a mirror. Gon hesitated, rushing through a quick, silent debate if he should enter or leave. 

He chose to enter. Yeong continued watching his reflection come nearer, until Gon came to a stop less than an arm’s breadth away. Nobody said or did anything, and after a long silent pause Yeong returned to his training, still keeping an eye on Gon through the mirror. 

“You shouldn’t have said sorry,” Gon was the one to breach the silence, voice quiet in the large room. 

Yeong looked up, actually at him this time rather than his mirrored self, a little startled to be spoken too. “What?” 

“You apologised for being in love with me.” Gon wet his dry lips, his heart aching a little. “You shouldn’t apologise for loving someone.” 

Yeong looked away, uncomfortable, and didn’t have the words to reply. 

Gon didn’t push it, just let Yeong have his metaphorical space. He’d said what was most important to tell Yeong, and for now that was enough. He didn’t want to push, and even if he did he still didn’t have the words. Looking at Yeong now, the first time face to face with him since his confession, he was just as uselessly wordless as he was then. Unable to offer a real response to his admission. He didn’t leave, though. He picked up his own barbell and stayed close. 

Noticing, Yeong put his down and took a glance at the clock, though Gon knew he was already aware of the time because he always was. Gon mimicked him without even thinking about it. Then trailed after Yeong as he put his barbell away and did the same with his own even though he’d just picked it up. He wished he could put the weight in his heart down so easily. 

Yeong turned to him, went to speak but stopped, his full lips slightly parted. They looked very pink. Yeong cleared his throat, looking highly uncomfortable. He’d never looked at Gon that way before, and Gon never wanted him to again. He knew it was an impossible hope. 

Gon should leave him alone, he knows he should. Yeong clearly didn’t want him around, but for some reason he just couldn’t. Walking away now felt like it would be failing Yeong in some way, irrational as that was. When Gon didn’t move, rooted to the spot like he’d been planted there, Yeong half raised a hand, pointing vaguely at the door leading to the men’s changing room. 

“...I was going to shower,” Yeong said, not so much as glancing at the door, instead his eyes on Gon’s shoes. With the same hand his waved vaguely back towards the main gym area. “Didn’t want to make it awkward with the whole... thing. You should carry on with your exercise.” 

“Right,” Gon said, feeling very awkward despite Yeong’s efforts. That made two of them. “Sorry. Um, go ahead.” 

For a second, nothing stirred. Then Yeong walked off at a controlled pace, Gon could tell he was forcing himself not to speed walk – he knew Yeong’s body language as if it were his own body, and then he pushed open the door and headed for the showers. Gon was moving before he’d even registered it, unconsciously following Yeong as if he were sleep walking, and regretted it the moment he heard the water start even through the door that had closed in his face. Instantaneously he flushed pink. Damn Min Hyuk for making him think of this exact thing. With the current state of his mind the last thing he needed right now was picturing Yeong in that shower. 

Because standing outside the door listening to Yeong shower would make him a certified creep, Gon turned on his heel and headed back to the suite as alone as he’d been feeling all day. 

He sat down in the living-room area, on the far too comfy to be real sofa which now may as well be made of stone, and stared at nothing until the door opened. It was possibly 10 minutes and possibly 1 hour later that Yeong returned. His hair was damp but he was wearing the same sweaty clothes. Clearly he’d been too preoccupied with his own thoughts to remember to bring a second clean outfit. It also meant he’d made up wanting a shower to get away from Gon. 

For a few dragged out moments Gon watched Yeong stand by the door, and Yeong watched Gon sit. Then Yeong mumbled something too quiet to be understood, and slipped away into his room. 

Another 10 minutes or 1 hour later he was back, in fresh clothes but wearing the same expression. Apprehension. 

“We need to talk about this,” Gon decided on the spot, voice steady and not betraying his own trepidation about broaching this situation. The truth was he felt how Yeong looked, but he didn’t want to allow this to fester and slowly rot away their friendship. If he lost Yeong, he would lose a part of himself. 

“There is nothing that needs to be discussed.” Yeong stood perfectly still for a moment, as ramrod and unemotional as his firm reply, and then stiffly strode with single minded purpose to the balcony door to check it was locked. They both knew it was. Then he did the same with the entrance door, and it made Gon feel uneasy, like his skin was crawling. When he moved to check others, Gon stood and stopped him with a light grip on his arm. Gon barely had his hand on him, but Yeong came to a frozen halt, not looking at him but instead gazing down the corridor towards the bedrooms. 

“Stop,” Gon said, voice soft, uncharacteristically manging to make it a request rather than an order. He couldn’t just sit back and let his best friend carry on like this, let him deal with this alone when it was him suffering the most. “Yeong, we need to have this conversation.” 

Yeong didn’t reply, the only movement the tensing of his jaw. 

Gon was still holding his arm, and he looked at his hand on him. It’s an odd thing that 24 hours ago he’d have thought nothing of this, likely wouldn’t even have noticed. But now it was like a burning heat he couldn’t ignore, overly aware of the slight pressure of muscle against his palm. 

“How you feel,” he began, but was cut off with a jerk. 

Yeong stepped back from him, Gon’s hand falling from him uselessly. He wanted to reach out again, his fingers curling ever so slightly with the desire to feel some sort of physical connection again. But Yeong had stepped out of reach. 

“It doesn’t matter how I feel, your Majesty,” he said head bowed, but not to Gon, rather to the weight of his own sufferings. Gon desperately wanted him to look up, even just a glance, but Yeong would not look at him. “I know that it’s one-sided, and that’s ok, I accepted it a long time ago. I don’t expect anything of you.” 

Gon’s heart clenched, and he wanted to confess to Yeong about his confusion this whole situation had caused, his confusion about him. He wanted to confess that sometimes he looked at Yeong and lost all train of thought, or that sometimes his heart beat a little harder when he was close, that having him by his side made him feel safe and loved and how he wanted him to stay by his side until his dying breath. But the words wouldn’t come. Not even to comfort the person who meant the world to him. His own insecurities and worries ran too deep, and he was still so confused about how he felt, about how real these urgers were. He wasn’t able to tell Yeong that he understood, wasn’t able to bring himself to ease his pain. 

“Even if you loved me back,” Yeong said, oblivious to the way those words made Gon’s chest ache with longing and head ache with confusion, “it would be a fool’s dream. You are the King; you have a duty that has to come first. Above you, certainly above me. I’ve never been blind to that, and I never wanted you to change that for me. You don’t need to explain anything to me.” 

Yeong blinked the tears from his eyes, and finally, _finally_ met Gon’s gaze with a small, bittersweet smile. Gon had gotten what he wanted, but it caused a lump in his throat that had him breathing deep to force air into his lungs. He’d never wanted Yeong to look at him like that, with a hopeless longing to be loved. 

“Yeong...” But he couldn’t get any more words out, and Yeong’s smile became a little sadder. 

“It's true, I do love you,” Yeong said. “I think in some way I always have, from the moment we met. But I’ve also always understood and accepted that I have to find satisfaction in a quiet love that can never be expressed or reciprocated. And that’s ok; I don’t need anything more than that. Getting to be your friend, being able to protect you, trying my best to do what I’ve been aiming for since I first laid eyes on you – to help make you happy, as much as I’m able – that’s always been enough for me. I don’t need anything more. So please, your Majesty - _Gon_ \- just... just don’t change. Be you. And don’t worry about me, because I’m always alright. And as long as we can continue what we already have, that’s enough for me.” 

_’I’m always alright.’_ But that isn’t true, is it? That’s what people who are not alright tell people because they don’t feel worthy of burdening others with their problems. Not even realising that it isn’t a burden. Too used to putting others first, never stopping to think about their own needs. 

Gon inhaled, deep and shuddering, his own eyes wet at Yeong’s soft smile that fell far short of his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough,” Gon said, his voice small and breakable where Yeong’s ought to be, the opposite of how a King should sound. But he didn’t want to be a King right now, he just wanted to be Yeong’s friend. But he was never just Yeong’s friend; the way his heart felt like it had ripped apart when Yeong used his name was proof of that. It had been ten long years since his name was on Yeong’s lips, and he’d wanted to hear it again so badly, sometimes he ached for it. But not like this. “How can that be enough for you? Why would you spend day after day by my side dreaming you could have what you know you can’t have? How can you deal with the pain, the constant ache of being so close but never touching?” 

“Because I love you. Loving you is enough,” Yeong said, like it was simple, like love was worth suffering for. “So long as I get to see you happy, healthy, alive, I can ignore how much it hurts.” 

“What if I can’t ignore how much it hurts you?” Gon whispered. The words caught up and torn out of his throat. 

Yeong breathed, one deep inhale, turning his head away. “Then what’s the alternative?” He asked, looking back to Gon, eyes filled with a deep sadness years in the making. “The only other option is that I leave. That I go far away and we never see each other again. Don’t do that. Please, Gon, don’t do that to me.” 

The thought was like a bullet to his chest. Gon felt tears on his cheeks he didn’t bother to wipe away as a future with a Yeong shaped hole flashed before his eyes. “You could get over me, though. You could meet someone else and fall in love, and live a life that makes you smile rather than this. All I can offer you is shadows.” 

Yeong blinked away his own tears, a shaky attempt at reassurance on his face. “I’ve always been comfortable in the shadows.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Gon choked on his reply, Yeong’s words like a stab rather than reassurance because it was true, because Yeong had spent enough time quiet and unnoticed that he’d adapted and come to find comfort in his aloneness. “You deserve the light.” 

“Don’t,” Yeong said, voice lost and pleading. “Please don’t.” 

It was now, even after much soul searching throughout the day, that Gon realised what the overwhelming feeling of something like grief or loss he had when he looked at Yeong was – it was guilt. 

Gon knew now, with that one sentence, that he had taken Yeong’s life away. He had given him a light up toy sword, and in return took everything. Yeong devoted himself to the King, to the point of putting Gon so far above himself that he couldn’t even be himself, because the King may disapprove. He stepped out of the light so Gon could have it all and made a home for himself in the shadow of the crown. He had stopped being a person with his own desires and became both a weapon and shield for Gon. 

And then he’d forgotten how to be anything else. How to be Jo Yeong. And Gon, he had allowed that, encouraged it even, though he hadn’t realised what he’d been doing. Hadn’t even stopped to think. Just took, took, took. Yeong’s loyalty, Yeong’s childhood, Yeong’s chance at love. He had taken Yeong’s whole life without even noticing. 

He remembered little Yeong at four years old when they first met, the open emotions and friendly nature, the dreams he had held. And he thought of Yeong now, after years of moulding himself – or being moulded – to fit the needs of the King; the single-mined duty he felt, the stoic nature. How had he changed so much? Eun Seob with all his brightness drifted through Gon’s mind, and he wondered if that’s what Yeong could have been, if he hadn’t entered his life. Happy and care-free, always smiling so easily and ready to embrace the ups and downs of life with a good-natured laugh that was never faked nor held back. 

Was this world showing him how he destroyed the person he cared for most? 

“You could have had his life,” Gon realised aloud, mourning something that had never been. “You could have been happy.” 

“I’m not Eun Seob” Yeong said, understanding immediately. His words were hard and full of steadfast denial, taking the statement as an insult rather than an apology. Yeong, Gon was quickly coming to understand, did not see his life as the pitiful thing it was. 

“I know,” Gon said, the simple words carrying far greater weight than they had the right to. Yeong would never be Eun Seob, he couldn’t be, not after all these years. But maybe in another parallel world, were his devotion wasn’t so absolute, so all consuming, he could be. A world where Gon saw how that boy who cried so easily shut down to care for another. But not this Yeong. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you can’t be him.” 

Yeong was confused, his brows furrowed, and he looked at Gon with no understanding of what those words meant, what Gon was sorry for. Why Gon should apologise that he wasn’t another (same, but so much not the same) man. Yeong would never see how much better Eun Seob’s life was, would he? 

And Gon was devastated, at himself and for Yeong. It was his fault, and he would carry the burden for the rest of his life. It’s one he would accept without word of complaint, because he knew he deserved it. 

How could he have failed his closest friend so spectacularly? 

Yeong looked at him again, uncomfortable and looking like he’d missed the last step walking down stairs. “I think I’ll go to bed,” he said quietly. 

It wasn’t very late yet, and he had never retired at this time before, but Gon didn’t mention that. Just watched Yeong walk away again, shoulders slumped. 

For a few minutes Gon just stood in the same spot, mind replaying their conversation over and over again. But it did nothing. It didn’t absolve any guilt, or make his own feelings any clearer. It just felt like a punishment. 

He went to bed himself, wide awake and feeling like he’d be unable to sleep again tonight. But he laid down in bed regardless, turned on his side to look out over the city that was both so familiar yet so foreign. 

The room felt very empty. Too big and bare. Like he needed another body to fill it up. 

Even beneath the sheets the bed felt cold, too large for his body heat alone to warm it up. 

Gon shivered, and pulled the duvet tighter around his shoulders. 

Did Yeong feel cold? Was he feeling a sense of wrongness looking out over this Seoul that wasn’t theirs? 

Was Yeong feeling guilt like Gon was? Guilt for confessing his love. He hoped desperately that he wasn’t. He was, though, Gon knew he was. Yeong was blaming himself for this situation between them, for ruining the easy camaraderie they had shared. It would never even cross his mind to place the blame at Gon’s feet. Gon, who despite everything Yeong had given up for him still couldn’t bring himself to admit that maybe he did harbour feelings that extended passed the realm of platonic. That he found his lips and arms and eyes to be so distracting. 

Was it just guilt Gon was feeling? He had never been so confused in his life. He was lost, so lost. He couldn’t make heads or tails of his own mind, his own thoughts. For a man who was so used to being in control, he now felt so powerless. Numbers and equations and theories he could make sense of, they would race through his brain on dozens of different tracks simultaneously, shooting off in all directions, each one breaking off to form more thoughts, then they’d break off and create even more, and his mind would race as it jumped between them, his hands working furiously to write it all down, to keep up with his spreading thoughts, and he would keep up. It was maddening, but wonderful, a blessing and a curse when his thoughts would erupt with new ideas and questions just waiting to be explored and mapped out. 

But this? This was something different. His mind raced, but he couldn’t make sense of any of it, couldn’t keep up, or understand. He’d hoped that speaking with Yeong would make things clearer, but it was now more opaque than before. 

He didn’t know what he was feeling. 

He didn’t know if this strange need to pull Yeong close and hold him in his arms was because of guilt, or if it was a more intimate desire. Was it because Yeong was his friend? Or could he possibly be seeing him in a way he’d never before even considered? Was it merely the guilt making him think he could give Yeong the love he wanted? To look at him, a man, the way he’d only looked at women before. 

...Yeong had nice lips. Full and plump and pink, like he’d just bitten them – or like they were puffy from being kissed senseless. 

Gon groaned into his hands, feeling another headache coming on. 

He tossed and turned away a second night. 

*** 

By the time morning rolled around Yeong had once again disappeared, and Gon was desperate to talk to someone who understood the full predicament he was in. He was so tempted to call Tae Eul, all morning he paced around the hotel suite, phone in hand, debating what to do. He also wanted to keep Yeong’s privacy. Blurting out everything to Min Hyuk had been a betrayal enough. Yeong was a very private person, and if he knew Gon had gone off blabbering about his biggest secret, well... 

But Gon was so confused. He needed a rational mind to talk it over with. He could do that with Tae Eul, and he could trust her to not utter any of this to another soul. Yeong would understand, right? Maybe he could even get around telling her without actually telling her. He didn’t have to mention Yeong’s confession, he could just talk about his own confused feelings. 

By midday he’d psyched himself up into calling. He aimed for calm, what he got was panicked. 

“Tae Eul! Tae Eul!” Gon said desperately into the receiver. “I’m having a gay crisis!” 

There was a pause. Likely because nobody expected to pick up the phone to that rather than a simple ‘hello’. Then Tae Eul’s dry, sarcastic voice drawled through. 

“I should think so, all those hot, sweaty, dancing men around you these past few days,” she said. “Good, it will help your cover.” And she hung up on him. Gon stared at the phone incredulously. 

Did she really just do that? _To Gon?!_ The absolute nerve! She’d better not be too attached to her head. 

He rang back, and she didn’t answer. So he rang back again, and she didn’t sound pleased when she picked up, but at least she did pick up. 

“ _What?_ I’m in a meeting,” she snapped. “Make it quick.” 

“Yeong told me he’s in love with me!” Gon blurted out in one breath. 

Well, so much for keeping that to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, berating himself for it. He really hadn’t meant to say it, it just came out. Again. 

There was silence for a few long moments, and Gon waited for her reply with bated breath. 

“...What?” Tae Eul finally asked, any sarcasm or jokes absent from her tone. Gon groaned, hoping she wasn’t going to make him repeat himself. “Hey, Lee Gon, are you joking right now? Because if you are-” 

“I’m not,” Gon cut her off. “Two nights ago... he, after the three of us left the pub, he told me. Or, rather, shouted it at me.” 

There was another pause. It felt like an eternity to Gon, but realistically it couldn’t have been longer than five seconds. 

“Meet me at our usual spot in an hour.” 

*** 

Barry was a nice name for a fly, Gon thought. 

Gon had met a Barry in England once. A Minister for Foreign Affairs, and he was the epitome of what Gon imagined when he imaged British Ministers (which was very rare, because otherwise that would be strange. Just when dealing with Britain in any international cooperation or state visits.) Barry had been mid-sixties but looked much older, pale skin yellowed almost to the colour of his wispy hair from chain smoking and blotched with red from excessive alcohol, an expensive suit pulling at the seams as it stretched around his large stomach. Barry had cheerfully shown Gon a photograph of his granddaughter, boasted about how pretty and intelligent she was, how she’d be off to Cambridge University next year, then he pinched the arse of a passing woman his granddaughter’s age and winked when she gave him a look of disgust. Barry thought he was a ladies man. Even his wife had kept her distance from him, though. 

It was a foreign name, but it was fitting, he thought, as Barry the fly landed on a woman’s chicken right as she was about to take a bite, causing her to shout in disgust and throw it down. 

The door opened, and Gon was immediately distracted, looking to see if it was Tae Eul. He’d been looking every time it opened, so far with no luck. Why did he have to be the first to arrive? He was used to being waited on, not doing the waiting. 

His eyes almost drifted back to Barry, but then his brain caught up and he realised it was actually Tae Eul this time. 

She took the seat opposite him and reached for a piece of chicken he’d already ordered. “Spill,” she said before taking a large bite. 

Gon sighed, playing with the lip of his soju bottle. It was too early to drink, but today he didn’t care. “Like I said, he told me he’s in love with me.” 

Tae Eul waited, but when nothing more was forthcoming she prompted him. “And? What happened after.” 

Gon shrugged. “Nothing. He was upset and left. I went back to the hotel. He came back really late and was gone by the time I woke up.” 

“Have you seen him since?” She asked, and Gon nodded. 

“Yeah. We talked a bit. I feel shitty.” 

Tae Eul waited. And waited a bit more. Then realised Gon had no plans on delving deeper into that. 

Gon felt too guilty, too ashamed of himself, and as selfish as it was he didn’t want Tae Eul to hear what a terrible friend he is. He didn’t want her to agree with his own musings. Didn’t want her to feel about him how he was feeling about himself. 

“You’re... really affected by this, aren’t you?” Tae Eul said, looking genuinely surprised. She bit her lip, and looked around as if the right words might be written on a grimy wall for her to read off. Gon knew exactly how that felt. He wished someone could give him the answers and tell him what to say. But that’s not how the world works, and there was no easy way out of it. 

“Gon,” Tae Eul said, her voice unusually soft, and she didn’t speak again until Gon met her eyes. “Do you like Yeong?” 

He wanted to stall, say ‘of course I do, he’s my friend’, but they both knew what she meant, and stalling would get him nowhere. 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, feeling utterly lost. He put his head in his hands with a groan. “I _don’t know_ , and it's so ridiculous. How can I not know?” 

“Would you... I mean, if you did like him, would you date him? Be in a relationship with him?” Tae Eul asked. 

Gon gave a dry chuckle, nothing warm or humorous about it. Yeong’s own words echoed back at him, about how duty comes first. “How could I? I’m the King. There are rules and regulations, and traditions to follow and expectations to meet. I have to take a wife, and produce at least one heir. There is only so much say I have in my life.” 

Tae Eul’s brow furrowed into deep lines, but clearly she didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“It’s an odd thing, isn’t it?” He said, more to himself than her. “I have the money and power to have anything in the world, but the same thing that gives me that restricts what I can and can’t have too.” 

“But don’t you have the power to change that?” Tae Eul asked, the frown still marring her face. “You said that you make the laws in your country, so can’t you just... I don’t know, fix it?” 

Gon chuckled, though he found it far from amusing. “And start a revolt? I can’t just openly change the law to benefit myself. The abuse of power would have people rioting in the street.” 

“You can alter tradition, though.” She was quick to counter. “Traditions come and go with eras. What worked in the past does not necessarily work now.” 

“I feel like whatever I do, it just doesn’t matter,” Gon said, the words weighing heavy. "“Nothing will change. I don’t even know if I want it to.” 

Tae Eul didn’t reply immediately, searching for the right answer, though Gon didn’t think there was one. 

“Why? Why would you not want it to change?” 

Gon looked down at the stained table with his own frown. “Because what if it all leads to nothing?” He picked up a piece of chicken, tearing off little pieces of skin with his finger nails. Unconscious fidgeting he’ll regret when he takes notice. “What if I took a chance, entered into a relationship with Yeong, and then I...” Min Hyuk had said it could never work, that it would be too much, that Gon would leave Yeong heartbroken. “And then I wasn’t good enough for him?” 

A hand clasped his, stopping his fidgeting, and Gon dropped the chicken with a noise of disgust. Under his fingernails felt so gross. 

“Gon,” Tae Eul said, squeezing his hand to bring his attention to her. He pulled his hands back from under hers and dropped them to his sides, and he met her serious gaze, oddly soft for the detective. “Do you think you don’t deserve Yeong’s love?” 

“I stole a shiny Charizard card when I was a kid,” Gon said suddenly, gazing unseeingly across the room. 

“Er, okay? Sudden subject change, but okay,” Tae Eul replied, unknowing of where this was going or why he brought it up. “Bad King? No supper for you.” 

Gon frowned, at himself or the memory he didn’t know. “I wasn’t scolded for it. It belonged to the child of one of my tutors. She was in no position to accuse the King of theft. She was just a tutor hired temporally by Lady Noh, nowhere near high ranking enough. Her son was upset, but she must have told him to be quiet, to let it go. Maybe she even replaced it for him, or tried to. It was a rare card, so it couldn’t have been easy or cheap to find another. Maybe she searched high and low for a card to make her son happy. A card he’d already had, until I took it.” 

“Where is this going?” Tae Eul asked, sounding cautious. 

Gon was pretty sure he was frowning at himself. “I didn’t care,” he said. “I didn’t have the card, and I wanted it, so I took it.” 

“It was wrong,” Tae Eul agreed, voice unsure not of her statement but the entire situation. “But Gon, you were a child. A lot of children steal.” 

“And those children are corrected, they are scolded, told no, taught that they can’t just take what isn’t theirs. They are taught right from wrong, but why wasn’t I?” Gon frowned hard and looked at the woman opposite him. Somebody who had grown up with normal boundaries. “Nobody ever taught me that. Adults too afraid of a child because of the crown on my head. I didn’t feel bad, or guilty, because I was used to taking whatever I pleased. I still am used to it. Things go my way, people accommodate me. I get what I want. I don’t ask nicely; politeness is for other people talking to me. I think... I’m a dick.” 

Tae Eul snorted a laugh, but Gon wasn’t laughing, a troubled stirring in his gut making him ill at ease and a little nauseous. “You are a bit of a dick, yeah. It’s easy to tell you're not the introspective type.” Tae Eul laughed, and Gon’s head dropped at the confirmation. He’d never been told that before. At least not to his face. 

Tae Eul must have taken pity, because her next words were a lot softer. “But that doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person. Sure, you have your flaws, but who doesn’t? I think, at heart, you’re a good guy, trying to do the good thing, the right thing. I mean, look at the reason we’re here right now; you’re helping to stop a bad person doing bad things, you’re helping innocent people. No one asked you to, these aren’t even your people, or your country. Hell, it isn’t even your world. Yet here you are.” 

“Is that enough though?” Gon questioned. “Does it matter if I’m ‘a good person at heart’ if I’m still everything else?” 

Tae Eul sat up straighter, a physical show that she was serious now, that she wanted to help. “What’s this about exactly? I need to know, so I can give whatever answer you’re looking for.” 

Gon grimaced and sat back in his seat, shoulders drooped to match his current emotions. 

“Is this about Yeong somehow?” Tae Eul asked. 

“I just...” Gon fiddled with his hands, picking the chicken skin out from under his nails, needing some kind of distraction. “I feel awful, because I’ve taken so much from him. How can I take this too? It’s far too selfish.” 

“Take his what?” 

“ _Love._ He’s given his life to me since he was four years old, his loyalty, his friendship, his devotion, and I took it all without even stopping to think about it. But this?” Gon spread his arms, like he was encapsulating the whole world. “I don’t want to take this from him, it's too much. He should love someone better.” 

“From what I’ve seen, everything he’s given you has been voluntary,” Tae Eul said, her voice somehow very calming, like it was guiding a ship back to shore. “Did you force him to be your friend?” 

“No,” Gon said, put off that that could even be a question. 

“Did you force him to stay in your life?” 

“...No,” he said, starting to realise where she was going with this. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with that. He wasn’t looking to be absolved. 

“Did you force him to join the Royal Guard?” 

“No, but-” Tae Eul didn’t give him to opportunity to expand on that answer. 

“Did you force him to fall in love with you?” 

Gon winced as if she’d slapped him across his face rather than asked him a question that was likely so simple for her, but so difficult for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I did? His life has always revolved around me, so did he even have any other choice?” 

Tae Eul considered him quietly long enough that the broken dishwasher machine in the back became a part of the atmosphere, the heavy clunking meshing with the quite din of chatter from the few other patrons. “No, I guess he didn’t,” she finally said, and Gon’s heart dropped even though he’d already known that was the correct answer. “But even if he’d fallen for someone else, that wouldn’t have been his choice either,” she continued, and Gon looked back up at her, a little hopeful, a little doubtful. “It was his choice to befriend you, to stick by you, to take up a job protecting you. But falling in love isn’t a choice, not for him and not for you, or anyone. You didn’t make him love you, Gon, and he didn’t make himself love you. It just happened, its uncontrollable. You love who you love, and that’s all there is to it. Nobody gets a choice in who that person is.” 

“I kept him by my side, though, all those years,” Gon replied, a little desperate to be criticised. To have Tae Eul tell him that it was all his fault. It was irrational, but Gon was feeling a little irrational today. 

“Quite being a martyr,” Tae Eul said firmly. “Honestly, self-flagellation isn’t a good look on anyone, certainly not a narcissist like you. Unless you held Yeong captive until he developed Stockholm syndrome his life and his choices are, and have always been, his own.” 

“But he’s-” 

Tae Eul cut him off with a no-nonsense look. “People change. Our experiences and the people around us change us. Who Yeong is now was shaped by his life, and, yes, by you, but he also changed it. If he didn’t want that life, he could have walked away at any time, right? You weren’t making him stay, you didn’t have him sign some life-long contract, right?” 

“Right,” Gon said, feeling rather lost right now, “But-” 

“Shh. No. No ‘buts’. If you are his friend, you should respect his choices.” Gon bit his lip, warring with himself, and Tae Eul rolled her eyes. “My God, I swear, you’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met. Honestly, you make my aunt So Min look sane and rational in comparison, and trust me, that is no easy task. That woman gossips like there is no tomorrow and knows everyone’s business, and if there’s nothing to gossip about, you can be damn sure she’s creating wild rumours and conspiracy theories.” 

Gon wasn’t too pleased at being compared to anyone’s crazy aunt, but he let it go because Tae Eul had given him a lot to think about. 

Barry chose then to fly down and land in front of his plate. Gon ripped off a small piece of chicken and placed it next to him. 

Tae Eul’s lip twitched just the slightest bit. She tried to repress it, but Gon caught it anyway. 

“What?” Gon asked hotly. “I can feed a fly if I want to. Can't you see I’m in emotional distress right now?” 

“I’m sorry,” Tae Eul said, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s just... you’ve never done this before, have you?” 

“Done what?” 

Tae Eul didn’t even attempt to hide the grin this time. “Thought so much about someone else’s wellbeing.” 

Gon huffed, and tried to think up arguing points. He failed. Miserably. 

“That’s what I thought,” Tae Eul said with a knowing nod. “Honestly you should try it more, you look cute all flustered.” 

Well that rang familiar. Hadn’t he said the same thing about Yeong after first taking him to this world? 

Was that another sign he’d somehow managed to miss? All these years Gon thought he was smart, now he was starting to realise he’s an idiot. “Tae Eul, do you ever think of women as cute?” 

She caught on immediately, of course. “Only when they are purposefully being cute. Not when they’re trying to get a signal.” She gave him a significant look. “I also don’t have a sexuality crisis over it.” 

Gon didn’t have a reply for that, something which he’d rather not admit to. Thankfully, Barry once again had excellent timing and picked this as a good moment to put his little wings to work in Tae Eul’s direction. Not so thankfully, she tried to swat him which sent him back in Gon’s direction. He watched, nonplussed, as the fly landed on his shoulder. 

Gon turned his head to look at him. Barry buzzed. Gon contemplated flicking him away, because how dare a fly land on the King? Instead he just sighed and sagged in his seat. Maybe Barry was having a bad day too and needed a break. Gon didn’t know what went on in tiny fly brains. Besides, his fingers and nails were already filthy, so why not let a fly sit on him too? 

“Seriously?” Tae Eul was staring at his shoulder. “You’re just going to leave it there?” 

“Barry is having a bad day, leave him alone,” Gon grumbled. 

If Tae Eul was the type for dramatics, she’d have face-palmed. She had that look about her. Like Gon was the dumbest person she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting. It was actually a fairly common look on her face when Gon was in her vicinity. 

“You _named_ it?” She shook her head as if he were a lost cause. “You’re like the world’s worst Disney Princess,” Tae Eul said with a sad click of her tongue. “A fly companion? Really?” 

“I have a white horse, too,” Gon said defensively. 

“Doesn’t count,” She said back. “Tangled had a white horse. You just have a fly.” 

“Don’t listen to her, Barry,” he said to the fly still on his shoulder. “She’s just jealous.” 

“Right,” Tae Eul dragged the word out. “I’m jealous that I don’t have disease ridden vermin sat on me.” 

A part of Gon knew that any other day he’d be horrified to have a fly anywhere near him. Today, however, he just couldn’t muster up enough spare feeling to care. They had been all used up. 

“I’m a regular old Disney Princess,” he drawled the quip, a lame joke instead of shooing Barry away. 

“You look like a Disney Princess,” Tae Eul snickered like it was the height of insults. “Animal companion, nice clothes, rich, hair on point – crazy murder-happy family.” 

“I’m not a Princess,” Gon said, digging up as much pomp as he could find buried in that narcissism bubbling just under the surface of his mini-breakdown. “I’m clearly Prince Charming.” 

“Oh, you are _definitely_ not Charming,” Tae Eul snorted as inelegant as ever. Well, they both knew _she’d_ certainly never be a Princess. “Try the opposite. You’re like his twin brother, Prince Repugnant.” 

“You’re just jealous because I make a better Disney Princess than you,” Gon said, haughty and snobbish. “And I shan’t lower myself to your level.” 

“Yeah, okay Princess Gon,” she said. “Whatever you say.” 

On his shoulder Barry buzzed, and Gon liked it think it was a variety of insults aimed at Tae Eul in fly speech. 

“I always liked Cinderella,” Tae Eul said out of nowhere, tilting her head a little as she thought about it. 

That surprised Gon, he had to admit. “How 1920s of you. I’d have thought you’d like one of the more modern Princesses, ones who save themselves rather than needing a Prince to rescue them.” 

“They’re good, sure,” Tae Eul agreed with an easy shrug, “but a little far-fetched. A little too fantasy. Fighting armies and going on magic adventures is all well and good, but completely unrealistic. I like Cinderella because she’s the type of hero anyone can aspire to become. She grew up with a difficult life, faced real adversities, was treated like trash and raised in an abusive household, but she never lost her dignity, or her kindness, or her hope. She rose above hate and just kept loving. Anybody could be as strong and kind as Cinderella if they wanted to be. We don’t need more warriors or Queens or daredevils in the world, what we need is kindness and gentleness, people who treat each other and the world with compassion.” 

“You should try not bossing me around and arresting me, then,” Gon shot back, despite the lesson ringing in his ears. He couldn’t let her know she’d struck a chord in him. “I don’t find that kind and gentle.” 

“Loophole. You’re not from this word, therefore my treatment of you doesn’t count,” Tae Eul replied smugly. 

“You’re the Disney Villain,” Gon grumbled. “I’m the hero Princess, you’re the Wicked Witch.” 

Tae Eul grinned at him, all teeth and slyness. “Does that make Yeong your tag-along Prince?” 

“He’s the frog.” Gon deadpanned. _’He looks like a frog,’_ Gon told himself. (He didn’t believe it. It didn’t even work for half a second.) 

Tae Eul looked like a spider who’d caught a fat fly in her web, and Gon resisted the urge to check on Barry, because that would be ridiculous. “But kiss the frog and he becomes a Prince.” 

He’d walked into that one, hadn't he? Gon scowled and threw a bone at her, because she deserved it. 

Tae Eul plucked the bone from her hair and set it down on the table. She folded her hands neatly in a pile of days old chicken grease, sat prime and proper as if conducting an interview. 

“I think you should give it a go with Yeong,” she said. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I think it could be good for you.” 

Gon gave her a flat look. “Did you miss the whole King bit? I thought I’d made that very clear. I told you, I need a Queen and heir. Call me a pessimist, but I don’t think Yeong’s going to be popping out any babies.” 

Tae Eul’s lip twitched, but she manged to keep her serious demeanour. 

“If you got together with Yeong, it would make your life complicated, especially with needing an heir, but who’s to say it wouldn’t be complicated with a woman?” She reasoned. “What if sometime down the line you fell in love with a woman, but she was infertile? Or what if you are, have you ever checked? Or what if she just doesn’t want children? Having a wife wouldn’t necessarily make things easier. And if you were with a man, there are other ways of having children. Surrogacy and adoption. I mean – if surrogacy and same-sex adoption are legal in the Kingdom of Corea? You did mention better equal rights.” Tae Eul pulled herself back from her little tangent. “My point is, you can’t live your life pleasing others, you have to do what makes you happy.” 

It is legal, Gon didn’t bother saying (though paradoxically there was no same-sex marriage). But an heir wasn’t really the point at the moment. He didn’t even know how he felt about Yeong, so he certainly didn’t want to start thinking about having children with him. Though... if he _did_ adoption would be out of the question, he’d need a blood heir. He also didn’t see the people reacting well to surrogacy. People would deny the child as the legitimate heir to the throne if not born from a Queen. 

“It’s irrelevant. It could never happen,” Gon said. “I come from a very, very long line of tradition, and that can’t just be broken because I can’t figure out if I want to sleep with a man or not.” 

“But it’s more than that,” Tae Eul replied, a reprimand to her tone. “You’re not trying to figure out if you want to sleep with him, rather if you do – or could – love him. Don’t debase yours or his feelings because you’re feeling salty.” 

“And now we’ve come full circle,” Gon groaned. He slumped even further into his seat, and Barry flew off him at the movement. Gon watched him fly off with a sense of abandonment. 

If his etiquette teachers could see how he was sat right now, they’d beat him with his plate. By the time he returned to Corea, everyone will think he’s been replaced by a commoner look-a-like. Maybe his world’s version of Crazy Aunt So Min would start that conspiracy theory. 

“I’m worried that I’m only confused about my feelings because Yeong is my best friend,” he said, not bothering to correct his posture. Why couldn’t he slump sometimes? Everyone else got to. “That his confession could have me mistaking friendship for something more. I can’t risk that, Tae Eul, I just can’t. If I decided I liked him, and we began something more, but then I realised I was wrong where could we possibly go from there? It would break his heart. I don’t know if either of us could recover from it, if we could rebuild a friendship.” 

“It’s a tough one,” Tae Eul admitted. “And I’m sorry that I don’t have an easy answer for you, I really am.” 

“Wouldn’t I have noticed by now if I were attracted to men?” He asked her the question he’d been asking himself. “I’m in my thirties, not my teens.” 

“I guess it’s possible to block out same-sex attraction if it doesn’t fit into your view of yourself? Or your society? I’m really not the best person to talk about this, it’s not a struggle I’ve ever had.” She gave a helpless little shrug. “But you hear about people coming out late in life, right? Sometimes people will discover their sexuality in their forties or fifties, or even later. Maybe since you’re attracted to women, you just assumed you’re straight and subconsciously ignored an attraction to men? Or maybe it’s just Yeong. Or maybe you aren’t attracted to men at all, and you genuinely are just confused because of Yeong’s confession and you don’t want to hurt him. But...” 

“What?” Gon prompted when she trailed off. “Please, just say whatever it is, I need to figure this out one way or the other.” 

“I’ve wondered about the relationship between the two of you, to be honest,” Tae Eul confessed. “It crossed my mind a few times if you were maybe more than you let on. I didn’t ask because it’s not my place, but the way you interact with him sometimes, or look at him... it doesn’t seem like just friends.” 

Gon remembered just a few days ago in this same spot, when he was teasing Yeong and she’d looked at him like she was trying to understand something. He also remembered his comment about Yeong’s waist, and the way his heart fluttered when he carried Yeong into the hotel and he’d relaxed into his arms, the feel of his lips... 

He’d kissed him. He’d kissed Yeong. And it didn’t feel wrong. He hadn’t even hesitated, hadn’t thought it over, in the moment it didn’t seem odd to kiss him, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

Even Eun Seob had commented on it, didn’t entirely believe there was nothing to it. Were these outsiders' perspectives more accurate than his own? 

The existence of wormholes and parallel universes and pocket dimensions where time didn’t exist was easier to understand than this. He wished this was a mathematical improbability he could work on understanding and solving. Numbers and equations were easy once you had an understanding of them. The enigma of human emotion, however, seemed to be lost on him. His own emotions, at least. 

Shouldn’t he just know? How could how he feels be this confusing when he was the one feeling it? 

But emotions can exist outside of conscious feelings, acting independently when a situation makes them requisite to the situation. It was maddening, how he could be feeling so much, but have no firmly grasped concept of it. 

Gon was envious of how easy Barry’s life must be. 

“I think you need to talk with Yeong more,” Tae Eul advised. “The two of you need to sit down and have an adult conversation because this isn’t going to fix itself. You need to figure out how you feel, and take him out of limbo one way or the other.” 

She was right, Gon knew she was right, but the idea filled him with dread. Their talk yesterday had been so hard, he wasn’t ready for that kind of hurt again. Especially not so soon. 

But what Tae Eul had said was spot on, he was keeping Yeong in limbo. He had given him no definitive reply, had he? Yeong assumed, but Gon hadn’t confirmed. Hadn’t rid him of that tiny bit of hope he was probably hanging on to despite his best efforts to rid himself of it. 

The problem was, Gon didn’t know what his answer was. 

“I have to get back to work,” Tae Eul interrupted his thoughts, looking at her watch. 

Gon just grunted, too caught up in his own head for much of a reply. 

“Lunch is on you again,” she said cheekily, getting up. Gon did however pay attention when she paused mid-way out of her seat. “Wait, one thing before I go.” 

“Hmm?” Gon inquired noncommittedly, and recoiled when her gaze suddenly turned cutting. What had he done now? 

“Last time we were here, how did you pay?” She asked, voice reeking of suspicion, and wow it was suddenly hot in here. Gon fiddled with the top button of his shirt. 

“With money, of course,” he said, staring at her eyebrows rather than her eyes. He’d heard it was a good tactic to make people think you were making eye contact when you weren't. Tae Eul, however, seemed wise to this and wasn’t fooled. 

“And would that be cash or card?” She pushed, and Gon mumbled the answer under his breath. “Speak up, I didn’t hear.” 

Gon glanced at her, glanced at Barry who was who stood on a naked light bulb hanging on exposed wires. Barry gave no emotional support, instead just flew down when a customer left and vomited onto an abandoned plate. Gon then looked back to Tae Eul. “Card,” he muttered a little louder. 

“See, that’s what I thought,” Tae Eul said deceptively calm. “But then I told myself, ‘no, he couldn’t possibly have done, because he’d need ID to set up a bank account, and faking that would be fraud. He wouldn’t possibly commit such a crime.’” Her facial expression turned stormy, and Gon very seriously contemplated running, but she knew where to find him. He’d only make it worse for himself. 

Tae Eul leaned over the table, hovering above him like they were in an interrogation room rather than a restaurant. (It spoke to the nature of the place that nobody even spared them a second glance.) “Who did you buy an ID off? I want a name.” 

“I don’t know!” Gon defended. It was true, Gon didn’t tend to personally associate himself with criminals. He’d sent Yeong, who knew how to track down any sort of criminal (or non-criminal, for that matter). Tae Eul seemed to realise this as he said it. 

“Who did _Yeong_ buy it off?” 

“You’ll never make me talk, copper!” Gon for some reason even he will never fathom stage-shouted back. He fully expected the smack to his head but pouted anyway. 

“A name,” Tae Eul demanded. “Or I’ll go to Yeong.” 

“He’d never speak, he’s been trained to resist torture,” Gon said back smugly. 

Tae Eul pulled back a bit at that. “Okay, one, that’s messed up. Two, he’s never had me as an opponent. Three, I’d use you to make him talk, and we both know he’d break if it’s you at risk rather than him.” 

Gon scowled. “You play dirty, Jung.” 

She raised incredulous eyebrows at him. “You’re the one who committed the very serious criminal act here. Do you even have the slightest idea of the prison time you’d be facing if you were caught?” 

Gon waved her off, lackadaisical as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, the image of a blasé King. “You can’t charge someone who doesn’t exist.” 

“Hey, you got a fake ID for yourself, I could get another fake ID for you,” she threatened, tying up her hair. 

That was a nice try, but Gon waved her off unconcerned. “Prison wouldn’t stick. Yeong would break me out.” 

Tae Eul glared, and her ponytail swung as she learned forwards to make sure he got a good long hard look at said glare. “He’d be going to prison right alongside you.” 

“We’d escape,” Gon replied with a cheeky grin. 

Tae Eul sighed a long-suffering sigh, dipping her head between her arms which were stretched out, her hands on the table, like an interrogation scene in a movie. “You are seriously so annoying. You know what? Fine. Keep your criminal card, but just know that if you get yourself arrested I will not help you out. Okay?” 

“Of course you won’t,” Gon said, clearly not believing a word of it. Tae Eul, perhaps wisely, chose not to reply because if she did it might be to strangle him. 

“I need to get back to work,” Tae Eul said more decisively this time, straightening up. “I’ll pay, since I don’t trust you with money any longer.” 

Gon saluted her, far too sloppily for someone who’d been in the Navy. “Yes, mother.” 

“Watch it, or I’ll ground you,” Tae Eul grumbled the threat, rummaging through her bag to find her purse. “And Gon?” She waited until he made eye contact, and pointed a firm finger at him. “Sort your shit out. Figure out what you want.” 

With that she headed for the counter, and then was gone without sparing him a look back. 

Sort his shit out... right. Gon could do that. If he could go chasing a murderer through portals to another universe, he could talk to his best friend. Right? 

For the next few minutes he went to text, stopped, put his phone away. Got it out again, manged two words, then deleted them and put his phone away again. He wasn’t even going to suggest talking now, but rather continuing their investigation. He needed more time before he could give Yeong an answer. He couldn’t risk getting it wrong and destroying everything. 

The woman who he’d paid last time was eyeing him with suspicion, which Gon thought was rich given they both knew she was a thief. 

He sighed, feeling rather pathetic. It was just _Yeong_. He shouldn’t feel this way texting Yeong. He did it all the damn time, had done since the two of them had phones. He used to spam Yeong so many photos of Maximus, and Yeong would always threaten to block him, but they both knew it was an empty threat. He smiled a little at the memory, and thought he needed to go visit Maximus again soon because it had been far too long since he’d had Yeong lecturing him on the correct use of emergency phones. 

He had to do this, had to pull himself together and send a damn text. They were a team. They couldn’t just give it all up as a bad job and allow people to continue being murdered because they were feeling awkward around each other. 

Gon took a breath and steeled himself. He was the King of the Kingdom of Corea, this was nothing. He’d been in far worse situations than this. He’d almost been _murdered_. 

...Why did that breath smell so bad? Like stale cigarettes and grease. He looked up, and the woman was stood next to him, just staring and chewing on something. Gon blinked at her. “Can I help you, Ma'am? My friend already pa-” 

“Who you not texting, sugar?” She drawled, leaning down into his personal space to get a look at his phone. 

Etiquette he’d grown up with taught him not to recoil away from people, especially not women which was very ungentlemanly, but he subtly leaned as far away as he could manage without being too obvious. Her breath smelt more than her clothes, which was saying something because her work uniform was looking like it was in need of washing last week. Her teeth were stained, like they’d not seen a toothbrush in years. 

“You fight with that boyfriend of yours?” 

Gon’s jaw dropped, and he looked at her incuriously. “I beg your pardon? I don’t have a boyfriend!” 

She laughed, the noise very booming and husky for a woman. “They why were you two playing footsie last you were here? Sure thing, sugar. You’re just _friends_.” 

Seriously? Another person who thought he and Yeong were a couple? Was this the universe trying to tell him something? 

More importantly, they were _not_ playing footsie. Digging his toes into Yeong’s thigh is not cutesy couple behaviour. He refused to accept that. 

“You don’t need to worry about me saying anything to anyone, honey,” the woman continued. Gon was about to reply, to set her straight and tell her very firmly that Yeong is not his boyfriend, but he paused before he’d even begun when a sad, wistful look of heartbreak overcame her face. He’d seen that look before, it was longing, regret and a reluctant acceptance. “I already made that mistake.” 

Gon didn’t know if he should ask, though he was burning with curiosity. He wasn’t quite sure she had meant to reveal that much to him however, her gaze somewhere far away, lost in a memory. In that moment it looked like she’d forgotten he was there, just her and her sorrow. 

Gon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He could only conclude she was being open at all in the first place because she herself had struggles with her sexuality. Had she told somebody, parents perhaps, and they hadn’t accepted her? As much as Gon sympathised, he also didn’t want to hear any more speeches about this topic. Three people was more than enough for him. Still, he couldn’t just walk away, could he? 

“Are you...?” He ventured, looking her over. 

The woman startled a little at his voice, her expression immediately going back to heartbreak. She chuckled, the sound self-deprecating and completely devoid of any warmth. “No, honey, not me. But my little girl...” 

“Your daughter is a, erm,” Gon took a quick glance around and lowered his voice, “lesbian?” The few other people were paying them no notice, and Gon asked quietly enough that the dishwasher almost swallowed up his voice. 

“She’d be about your age now,” the woman said, once again seemingly not fully recognising his presence despite her being at his shoulder, her voice having that far off tone. “But I haven’t seen her in a long time. Reacted badly, said some things that weren’t nice, things a mother shouldn’t say. And she went away.” 

Her voice cracked, her eyes wet, and from the sounds of it she drove her daughter away with her own actions, but Gon felt pity regardless. She looked so remorseful, so broken about it. 

He already had filthy nails and had a fly sit on him, so what was one more thing, right? Ignoring the smell and dirt Gon stopped leaning away, instead sitting properly, closer to her, and gave her a genuine look of sympathy. “You could always find her. I’m sure she’d forgive you.” 

“There ain’t no forgiving,” she said, a few of the tears that had sprung to her eyes falling despite her efforts to keep them contained. She used her filthy apron to dab them away, her gaze lost in sorrow, her tone so broken. “I was the one who found her. She was already blue, tongue all swelled up,” her voice and body were shaking, and Gon’s heart clenched, a cold shiver running through his body, no idea how to even begin to respond to that. “They said she’d been dead a while already. I knew she was, but I held her body up anyway, just hoping, until they got there to cut her down.” 

In his mind’s eye a feminine silhouette with a rope around its neck, which was crooked to one side, just dangling in the air surrounded by cold darkness and nothingness. 

How long had she stood there, a mother holding up the corpse of her daughter in some vain hope of a miracle she knew deep down wasn’t coming? Gon just sat there, frozen, as she pat his shoulder as if he was the one who needed comfort. 

“I had the most important job in the world, and I screwed it up. I failed as a mother. I’ll always regret them words I said to her that day. I may as well have done the physical act of stringing up that rope ‘cause I was the one who put her there.” Her voice cut off with cry, and Gon put a hand on the one resting on his shoulder, the chipped red nails standing out stark against their skin. She pat him again, took a breath and gave him a shaky smile that barely resembled what it was supposed to be. “But I shouldn’t really be putting this on a stranger, I’m sorry, I just got nobody to talk with about it. My husband won’t hear a word of it, and I ain’t got no one else. But I’ve seen you a few times with that guy of yours, and I thought you’d get it.” 

With an air of determination she stood straight, wiped her eyes with her stained, dirty apron one last time, and gave him a stern look. “Whatever troubles you and your guy are having, you should work it out, ‘cause life can be cut short far too early. And don’t let any of them hate filled bastards drag you down. People will tell you it ain’t right, but what do they know? Anyone filled with hate can’t be explaining love to no one.” 

She gave him one last pat, this one feeling far more motherly, and just like that Gon missed his own mother terribly. He barely remembered her, only one or two memories he wasn’t even sure were real. He had only ever known his mother through the eyes of others; in their stories, in the clips of her from public appearances, and her own writings in scientific journals. His father used to always talk about her, his words so fond and so deeply sad, and his memories had always been so wonderful. Gon would draw pictures of her, his father’s words of her kindness, intelligence, ambition, love and beauty ringing in his ears as he’d try his hardest to put it all down onto a piece of paper with nothing but crayons. After his father died, he’d stopped drawing his family. 

The woman had gone back to work, and Gon swallowed down his memories – now wasn’t the time to reminisce what he had lost, and instead focus on what he could prevent losing. He looked down at his phone again, held tight in his hand. 

He forced himself to send a text, quick and simple: 

_Meet later? Still need to catch this guy._ Within a few moments of sending it, it said ‘read’. 

He was expecting a reply, of course he was, but it still made his heart jump into his throat when it came. 

_Yes. Let’s just forget what happened, ok?_

They agreed to meet at the pub. Despite having gone to the club himself, it wasn’t the best place to get people talking, something he’d known as he’d gone there. Club goers just wanted to get drunk and/or hook-up, certainly not talk about murders. It had been a cop-out, a distraction, but he couldn’t continue to do that. Real people were being hurt and killed, people who were so often ridiculed and hated, sometimes to the point of tying a rope around their necks. He wondered if there were other parents who didn’t regret their words, even as their child was laid in the ground. 

He was a good distance away from the restaurant, but Gon decided to walk anyway. He wanted time to think before he met with Yeong. 

He needed to actually try and picture himself with Yeong. Not how Min Hyuk told him too, not physically, but romantically and emotionally. Could he truly see himself being happy with Yeong at his side, holding his hand, embracing him, sleeping in a bed with him, innocent kisses on the lips or cheek, going through life and all the ups and downs of a relationship with him? 

Really, truly thinking about it alone, with no one to influence his thoughts, he thought that he might like the idea. He’d always wanted Yeong close, always felt as if something was just _off_ with the world when Yeong wasn’t around. Gon had always found an easy, reassuring comfort in his presence that he’d never gotten from another person. Sure, there were others who he got comfort from, but never in the exact same way as Yeong gave him. Maybe he did like the idea of expanding on that, of being able to have someone who wasn’t just a lover, but his closest friend too – both combined into one. 

The thing is though, fantasy doesn’t always translate into reality. There’s been plenty of times in his life Gon had tried something thinking he’d like it, and had the opposite reaction. Maybe he sort of did like the idea of being with Yeong, but how did he know if he _actually_ wanted to, or if his brain was just going on its own little adventure to Bi Land but would be back in Straight World by the weekend? 

It was too much too soon. He had no easing into this, it was like being thrown into the deep end of a pool before a single swimming lesson. What the hell was he supposed to do? He wished he could just ignore it, but he knew that wasn’t happening. He didn’t have a brain that just let things go unsolved, not to mention it would be cruel to Yeong to simply act like his feelings don’t exist. 

Damnit, how does he always land himself in the most complicated situations possible? He’d like a normal day, please. One without gates to others dimensions and time freezing and murderous uncles and friends declaring their love. Was that too much to ask for? He felt like it shouldn’t be. 

He never thought these words would ever cross his mind, but he was missing when his biggest gripe was meeting with Prime Minister Koo. 

That’s what his life had come to – he missed that woman flipping between insulting him and trying to marry him. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so depressing. 

The sudden thought of how she’d react if he dated Yeong gave him a little humorous relief. She’d be so angry, all that effort put in only for a man she disliked almost as much as Gon himself just casually stepping in and taking ‘her’ place. Regardless of where his relationship with Yeong went, he was half tempted to act like a couple with Yeong in front of her just to see her spitting mad. 

In reality, however, he knew he would not do such a thing. It would be a bad decision all around. If he dated Yeong, people would be unaccepting enough without any public displays of affection, and if he wasn’t dating Yeong it would be very cruel to toy with his emotions in such a way. 

Granted, they were already pretending to be a couple. 

The full extent of how much Yeong must be hating this entire experience hit him only now. It must be like he was being teased with something he could never actually grasp, dangling just out of reach. It’s really no wonder he kept getting drunk. Gon would too if their situation was reversed. 

Actually, he felt like getting drunk again anyway. Though given that the last time he was drunk he’d thought it would be a good idea to kiss Min Hyuk, it would be the wisest choice to go alcohol-free for the next... oh, eternity? 

Add in the fact that with alcohol in his system he’d also thought about Yeong nude and showering without the usual push-back from his sober brain, and an eternity didn’t seem long enough. It felt so wrong, so inappropriate, to imagine any man naked, but with his inhibitions lowered... 

Maybe... maybe he was just scared of admitting to an attraction to men. That wasn’t who he was supposed to be, not who he was expected to be. Who Gon was, who he was allowed to be, was decided by the people of Corea, whether they realised it or not, and every last one of them had an opinion of him, and although those opinions differed what didn’t is that everyone shared the idea of what his relationship should look like. And the idea of that relationship most certainly did not involve Yeong, or any man. 

Sure, there were some people who wrote wild, fictious stories about him and Yeong having a secret love affair, but even amongst them only a small handful would think there could possibly be any truth to it. It was just something fun to speculate about when they got bored, the same as any celebrity gossip. Some would perhaps respond with pleasant surprise if it happened, others Gon knew would only ever accept it as fiction, and despite their own musings and imaginations recoil at the reality. 

It simply wasn’t realistic, the King being with a man. He was meant to be Corea personified, to uphold Corean values and traditions and present them to the world polished and shiny. That meant firmly heterosexual, to be a ‘real man’, whatever the hell that meant. Yeong, with his military and Guard training accompanied by his cool demeanour was Corea’s ideal image of masculine, but his reputation would drop to the gutter if the people knew he was gay. What hope did any man have, Gon included, of being considered a ‘real man’ if Yeong wasn’t? 

Although their Corea was a little more accepting than this Korea, it didn’t mean people would embrace a high-profile figure being attracted to the same gender, and the King at that? The idea was laughable. Even with all the changers the 21st century brought, an undercurrent of homophobia was still the norm; gay men being seen as feminine and less capable, lesbians being seen as butch and aggressive, bisexuals as greedy walking STDs. The citizens of Corea would not want him as their country’s image if he did not fit the citizens' image. 

His mind wondered to thoughts of nooses and weeping mothers, words that couldn’t be absolved and loses that could never be regained. 

Regardless of what happened between himself and Yeong, Gon needed to implement some changes once they were home. Now he had seen things from the other side, he knew he had to push for better equality for minorities in his country. It’s a shame that he so easily overlooked these issues, never truly understood them. It was a shame that most of the country would be as blind and ignorant as he was, but he’d do his best to better the lives of all his citizens. Yeong deserved better. They all did. 

He spent the rest of the walk thinking up plans for this, until he came to a stop outside the pub, not yet going in as his damn one-track brain returned to trying to make up its damn mind about how he felt. He had no idea how long he stood there, but he was startled out of his thoughts very suddenly. 

A hand slipped into his, and Gon’s eyes widened when he saw Yeong stood next to him. The younger man wasn’t looking at him, and without his permission Gon’s heart lifted at the sight and feel of him. His hand was very warm, and a little rough with callouses. It felt right, pressed against his own unmarred skin. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice completely and utterly lacking any notion of the turmoil he was experiencing inside because of this man stood holding his hand. His stomach felt like it was doing flips. 

But even as his stomach churned, just Yeong being here, having this small psychical connection again, it was putting Gon’s mind at ease. It had him believing that nothing could ever truly be bad, not so long as Yeong was by his side to face life’s challenges with him. Like he could take on the entire world with Yeong next to him. 

“Let’s just do this,” Yeong mumbled, the deep, rich timbre of his voice music to Gon’s ears. He had always liked Yeong’s voice, and honestly speaking had been a little jealous when it had dropped so low as a teen. “The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can pretend none of this ever happened.” 

The Captain went to move forward, but Gon didn’t let him. He stood in place, causing the other to come to a holt. Yeong didn’t look back. He tried to extract his hand from Gon’s, but Gon held it tighter. He had one thing on his mind. 

“What if I don’t want to forget?” Gon asked softly. 

Yeong’s shoulders raised, his body tight as a cord, but he still didn’t turn back to him. He was facing the pub, rigid and tense as if he expected an attack at any moment. Gon tightened his hold on Yeong’s hand, wishing he could just give him reassurance. But all he had were words, which so far had been lacklustre enough to fail them both. The truth was all he could give now. 

“Yeong. Yeongie. I... I don’t know how exactly I feel about all of this. It’s confusing. But one thing that I do know, that I’ve always known, is that I never want to lose you. That you are one of the best things about my life – very possibly the best.” 

Yeong took a moment as he tried to find whatever response he was looking for. “I... don’t want things to change, if that’s possible. I never should have told you what I did. It was selfish of me, I shouldn’t have put you in this position. Let’s just forget it happened.” 

Gon tugged on his hand in an attempt to get Yeong to face him, and reluctantly Yeong did. It wasn’t busy out here, but a few people passed by, paying them no attention as they laughed and joked together. It made Gon feel like he wasn’t quite real, that this moment between them was just a dream. 

This wasn’t the best place for such a poignant conversation. People were passing them by, often drunk, it was cold stood outside, and laughter and music penetrated the air around them. But Gon didn’t want to allow Yeong to continue on with these worries for even another minute, so he made a promise. 

“It won’t change. I’m not going to push you away, Yeong, not for this or anything. I would hate my life if you weren’t in it. It would all seem so pointless, and dull,” he kept Yeong’s hand in his, thumb running over the back of it, keeping the chill from his skin. Gon looked at their joint hands for a silent moment, just seeing how well they fit, how comfortable it was to entwine his fingers with Yeong’s. He looked back up to those eyes he knew so well, but were now looking so lost and vulnerable. “It wasn’t selfish, telling me. It was hard to hear, I will admit that, but you shouldn’t regret it, or feel any fault. It would be selfish of me if I said we should forget it, and to act like you never confessed your feelings.” 

Yeong swallowed, his gaze drifting down and then back to Gon, the beginning swell of tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to tell you, I really didn’t, but... you kissed me. And I kissed back, because I thought – I thought, for a second, that maybe-” Yeong broke off, wet eyes turned down. “But I know you didn’t mean it. That it was just for show.” 

It killed Gon that he couldn’t say ‘I did mean it’. He felt so torn, because he was so confused. He didn’t want to break Yeong’s heart, and he didn’t want to give him false hope. He desperately wished he’d had more time before this conversation took place. 

Then a different thought struck him. If Yeong wasn’t open about his sexuality, and if he was so anxious about it, that didn’t mean that he’d never even kissed a man, did it? Because if Gon had taken his first kiss so unthoughtfully and shamelessly on top of everything else, he was about to feel a whole lot more guilt added to the rapidly growing pile. 

“Yeong, that kiss wasn’t your first, was it?” He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. It was awkward and embarrassing and he was filled with anxiety at the possible answer, but he got the question out. 

Yeong’s face heated a little, just the smallest blush, but Gon released a breath and physically relaxed when he shook his head. 

“I... it’s not that I have never. I mean, I know, I’ve known for a long time.” At least Gon wasn’t the only one feeling awkward and embarrassed. Yeong wasn’t quite meeting his eyes, and he fiddled with the hem of his cuffed shirt sleeve with his free hand. 

“You just never acted on it?” Gon asked, though it was worded more like a statement. So he was surprised when Yeong responded. 

“No,” Yeong said. “I mean, yes. I have. I’ve... been with men before.” 

Gon was surprised, but more so confused. “But... what’s with all the secrecy then? Why have you been so afraid of going to all these gay bars?” 

Yeong huffed out of his nose, a little puff of condensation evaporating into the air as he looked worn out and stressed. “Because I didn’t want you to know.” 

“But why?” Gon asked, his heart sinking, the hurt clear in his voice. “I thought we were friends. Did you... think I’d hate you? Reject you? Why would you think that?” 

“I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I was scared of that?” Yeong frowned, and Gon thought it was aimed inwards rather than at him. Maybe Yeong himself wasn’t truly convinced of his own reasonings. “But it’s not why I never told you. I didn’t tell you because you’re the King.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Why does my being King change anything?” 

The look Yeong gave him was uncredulous. “Are you kidding, your Majesty?” He asked. “You are the King. Your reputation matters. How people view you matters. How people view the people around you matters.” 

“The people around me?” Gon said, an ache in his heart but his voice hard and bordering on anger. Not at Yeong, but the circumstances surrounding him. “You’ve spent how many years hiding this away like it’s something to be ashamed of, like you’re something to be ashamed of, because you don’t want to harm my reputation?” He stepped forwards, placed a hand on Yeong’s arm, needing him to know that he cares far more about him than he does anyone who would judge either of them for Yeong simply being who he is. “How could you do that? Do you think that’s what I would want? That I would place the opinions of others above you? Yeong - _fuck anyone who’d think you being gay ruins my reputation. _”__

__

__But Yeong was shaking his head. “You can’t say that. You know as well as I do how much a person’s reputation matters. It _would_ effect your rule. If my being gay became public knowledge, everyone would question our relationship. Not like those GonJo shippers online, people in power would. People who wouldn’t like it. They would demand you get rid of me, and if you didn’t would accuse you of homosexuality. You know as well as I do that Corea is not ready for a gay King. It wouldn’t matter that it wasn’t true if enough people believed it. They would want you off the throne.” _ _

__

__Gon deeply wished he had a counter-argument for that, but realistically he knew it was true as well as Yeong did. He didn’t want it to be, wanted to be able to tell Yeong that he was wrong, that it was fine that he’s gay, that nobody would judge him (or Gon, because it mattered to Yeong so much). There was one truth though, that the burden of Gon’s reputation should not fall on Yeong’s shoulders._ _

__

__While Gon had just been thinking similar thoughts himself on the way over, his were about how a relationship would change everything. He had thought of altering his own reputation, not how Yeong’s reputation would affect him. Even if nothing were to change between the two of them, the idea that he should force Yeong to stay locked away in the closet for the sake of his reputation left a vile taste in his mouth._ _

__

__“That’s not your place to worry about,” Gon said. Or at least it shouldn’t be. Yeong was too stubborn and absolute in his loyalty, to his own detriment. He would sacrifice the chance of love and a relationship for another man’s reputation, a man who didn’t even want that. “You're my friend, you have been my best friend since I was 8 years old. Yeong, you never should have kept this from me simply because I’m the King. You don’t need to protect me from who you are. How could you spend all those years protecting me from any rumours and let yourself hurt like that? Do you really think that’s what I want? That I would ever want that? My reputation is my own, and I would take however many hits came my way if it meant your happiness. _You_ matter to me more than the opinions of hateful bigots.” _ _

__

__Yeong shuck his head, looking unsure and near tearful, but regretful. Gon knew it wasn’t regret for having kept his secret, he didn’t have to ask to know that it was regret that Gon would let people traduce and slander him. Gon’s shame showed on his face, he tried not to let it, but it was too much to hold back. What had he done to make Yeong think there was even the slightest possibility that he’d want him to hide himself away to make Gon’s life a little easier? What had he done to Yeong to make him silently shoulder both of their struggles, unwilling to share the weight of them?_ _

__

__Was Gon truly that terrible of a friend?_ _

__

__Gon swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, a thick knot of tension and remorse. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. It was never my intention.”_ _

__

__Yeong was looking at him, a little panic glinting in his eyes as he shook his head quickly. “No, it's not like that. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my own choice.”_ _

__

__But it was a choice he had been conditioned into, wasn’t it? Tae Eul had been wrong. Yeong’s actions and thoughts were not entirely his own. His world view had been shaped around Gon, and Gon had contributed to that. The fact that he had done so unknowingly was not an excuse._ _

__

__“Let’s just go in,” Yeong said, voice rushed, looking for any excuse to end this talk now before it could dig too deep, get too personal. “The sooner we catch this guy the better.”_ _

__

__He didn’t wait for a response, just pulled Gon along behind him by the hand. Gon didn’t resist, letting Yeong lead them inside, fingers still entwined._ _

__

__Before Gon could even really register what was happening, Min Hyuk had descended upon them, wrapping his arms around Yeong, sticking his tongue out at Gon, and dragging Yeong towards him with surprising strength for his size. Granted, Yeong didn’t seem to be resisting._ _

__

__What on Earth? How was Min Hyuk literally everywhere Gon went?_ _

__

__“How are you everywhere I go?” He asked, and Min Hyuk, jewelled hands wrapped acquisitively around Yeong’s bicep, very smugly told him Yeong had called him. Gon looked at Yeong, the traitor, who was staring ahead rather than looking at either of them. Was Gon’s company not enough? Sure, he couldn’t really judge him wanting a friend around while things were so tense between them, but did it have to be Min Hyuk? The guy Gon had _kissed_. _ _

__

__Christ, did it feel wrong seeing them together, Yeong having no idea the man he’s in love with kissed the very friend who’s now wrapped around him, chin tucked onto his shoulder. (Gon told himself he wasn’t envious of the causal affection. He was though. Hugely.)_ _

__

__Why did Gon do these things to himself? Who else put themselves into these sorts of situations? Had he also missed that he’s apparently a masochist too? It was the only sensible conclusion he could draw._ _

__

__He watched with silent dismay as Yeong’s hand was yanked from his, leaving his own suddenly feeling cold and empty. Yeong shot him a look and a small shrug over his shoulders, not resisting as he was led away from Gon._ _

__

__He watched them merge into the crowd, not knowing how to ask him to stay. They lost all interest in him quickly, not giving his so much as one glance back, and Gon listlessly looked around the bar with its merry patrons. He wanted to be back home. Not the hotel, _home_. A place where everything made sense, and he never had to worry over who he was. He wasn’t sure how much he liked this place anymore. _ _

__

__Abandoned and dejected, Gon stood as useless as a piece of decoration._ _

__

__Min Hyuk was hanging off Yeong’s arm, laughing at something he’d said, and Yeong smiled at him. One of those rare smiles that lit up his face and made his eyes shine, and a flash of anger shot through Gon. Yeong _never_ smiled at anyone but him like that. What the Hell were they talking about to get Yeong to smile like that when he was so down? … Why hadn’t Gon been able to get him to smile like that recently? It had been so long since Yeong had looked at him like that, and it caused a mix of hurt and anger in his chest. _ _

__

__Was he... jealous? Of Min Hyuk?_ _

__

__If he couldn’t escape this place, he wanted to at least put his head in his hands until he could somehow will himself invisable, but now certainly wasn’t the time for such an obvious display. All of this had gotten too complicated too fast._ _

__

__He saw Min Hyuk giving him a _look_ from where he was unabashedly crowding around Yeong, and Gon purposefully didn’t meet it, instead looking away. Apparently, his jealously was no accident. Min Hyuk still wanted that 50 million won. _ _

__

__Gon headed for the bar and sat down, but waved the bartender away when he came over. The last thing he needed right now was to get drunk and embarrass himself. He didn’t trust what may come out of his mouth if he didn’t keep full control._ _

__

__He sat and brooded, and kept his gaze off Yeong. Min Hyuk’s new ploy wasn’t going to work, and he was going to stop thinking about Yeong and start doing what they were actually here to do. Soon. He’d do it soon. He just needed a minute or an hour to settle himself first. Then he would start questioning people._ _

__

__So he just sat there and silently berated Min Hyuk in his head while pretending that Yeong wasn’t over there with him having a far better time than he ever did with Gon. He wasn’t that carefree with Gon, didn’t laugh that openly with Gon. He wasn’t that casual with Gon._ _

__

__This sucked._ _

__

__He continued to wallow until sniggering caught his attention, and he looked over at two college aged boys who’d taken the space to his right._ _

__

__“I told you,” one was saying, casting glances around the place._ _

__

__The other looked more uncomfortable, his eyes darting about. “Yeah, well, we haven’t actually seen anything yet, have we?”_ _

__

__“ _Yet,_ ” the first one stressed. _ _

__

__“It’s not going to happen,” the second one replied. “What are even the chances?”_ _

__

__“Pretty good, right?” The first said, craning his neck like he was trying to spot somebody. “Bunch of fags in one room. Perfect place.”_ _

__

__Gon was immediately on alert, bristling at the slur. He turned to them with a dark scowl. “What did you just say?”_ _

__

__They looked at him for a moment, then laughed and turned away again. Apparently he wasn’t even worth a response. Not even an insult directly to his face._ _

__

__Gon didn’t let it go. He grabbed the closest one and spun him roughly by the shoulder to face him. “What are you two talking about?” He demanded._ _

__

__The guy had let out a hiss of pain at Gon’s tight grip, but clamped his jaw shut when he realised. Didn’t want to admit a ‘fag’ was able to hurt him, huh? Gon tightened his grip. “Well?”_ _

__

__“What the fuck,” the guy spat, yanking himself from the grasp. The second one was looking anxious but determined, glaring at Gon over his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t fucking touch me, you freak.”_ _

__

__“I’ll do more than touch you if you don’t answer my question,” he threatened, grabbing him by the lapels instead. “What are you expecting to happen here?”_ _

__

__The guy tried to shove him off, but Gon’s grip was unyielding. The kid’s scuffling about began to draw attention, so before Yeong could notice Gon was on his feet, one hand on each kid and dragging them outside. As soon as the door shut behind them, he threw them to the ground._ _

__

__They scrambled back to their feet, kicking up dirt and dust and shooting Gon poisonous looks. Gon remained unfazed, his hand twitching near his coat pocket where he kept the Manpasikjeok._ _

__

__“How dare you!” Dick number one exploded. “Do you know who my father-!”_ _

__

__“What were you talking about?” Gon interrupted, not giving a damn about any (so hilariously cliché) threats he had. Even the idea of him being intimidated by a what, 19 year old’s, father was ludicrous._ _

__

__“Hopefully you’ll be the next one, you Goddamn fag,” said 19-ish year old snapped, in a manner Gon assumed was supposed to be intimidating, but actually sounded downright whiney._ _

__

__“The next what?” Gon asked, strongly suspecting he already knew the answer._ _

__

__“Body.” He looked smug about it, and didn’t seem to care one bit that he was wishing a stranger dead._ _

__

__“So that’s why you’re here?” Gon asked, voice full of disgust. “You’re wanting to see the killer? Watch him target someone?” His fists clenched hard, until the nails were almost piercing the skin, hot rage heating his veins and temper. “This is just some sick reality show to you?”_ _

__

__“Well... yeah,” the guy laughed, callous and uncaring of human life. “It’s funny.”_ _

__

__How? How could anyone find it funny? Those were real people who were brutally and heartlessly murdered. People with lives and dreams, people with potential. People with families who had now been left destroyed and broken hearted._ _

__

__He thought of the chicken restaurant worker’s daughter again, pushed to suicide by an unkind world, by people like these two who thought destroying another’s self-worth was a game._ _

__

__“Hey, aren’t you that guy from the videos?” The other one piped up, a look of recognition coming onto his face. “You are, aren’t you? That guy who called out our-”_ _

__

__His friend elbowed him hard in the ribs, and he clamped his mouth closed._ _

__

__Gon didn’t hesitate, he stalked over a grabbed him. “Do you know who he is?” He questioned harshly as the guy struggled against him, unable to break free._ _

__

__His scummy friend tried to intervene, and using the momentum he came at Gon with, Gon used it against them both, grabbing the back of his head and bashing both of their skulls together. The pair of malicious idiots let out simultaneous yells of pain. Clearly neither knew how to fight, probably babied by mummy and daddy their entire lives, even into adulthood. This was too easy, Gon might actually feel bad if only they weren't scum._ _

__

__“We don’t know who he is!” The second guy said, hand over his bleeding nose._ _

__

__“It certainly sounds like you do,” Gon said. “Or at least you think you do.”_ _

__

__Gon was in no way opposed to threatening arsehole college kids with physical violence. At least not when a situation called for it. He harshly took a hold of both of them and got in their faces._ _

__

__Gon had had a lot of training with the Royal Guard from the age of eight, when he’d ordered a hesitant Captain to start training him. He’d never wanted to be in the position his uncle had put him in again, so he had learnt to defend himself. Given his 25 years of practise with some of Corea’s most capable fighters, two weedy 19 or 20 year olds who’s barely gotten over their acne faze stood no chance, and as they struggled against his hold they seemed to be quickly realising that._ _

__

__“There’s this guy,” arsehole number two said, leaning as far away from Gon as he was able. “He goes to Cyber Zone, that’s where we met him. He said he’d killed those people. We just wanted to see if he’d turn up, so we’ve been going to a few fa- I mean, gay joints.”_ _

__

__“He told you just like that?” Gon asked sceptically, not easing up on them. “Why did you believe him?”_ _

__

__“It wasn’t, like, immediately. We saw him a bunch of times before he said it.” He glanced at his friend, nervous, but received no support. “He just seemed believable, man. Like the things he was saying, you know? Guy was full on crazy.”_ _

__

__Gon regarded him for a few drawn out moments, causing the kid to twitch uncomfortably. It wasn’t much, and could very easily be a false lead, but it was more than they’d been able to get so far._ _

__

__“What is Cyber Zone, and where is it?”_ _

__

__“An internet café in Hongdae,” he said quickly. “Come on man, let us go.”_ _

__

__Gon released them both none to gently, causing them to stumble back a few feet, though both manged to keep their balance._ _

__

__“Fine.” He said. “Now the two of you get lost, and don’t ever let me see you again. Got it?”_ _

__

__They didn’t need telling twice. Immediately they scarpered away, though not without dick number one giving him a last glaring ‘faggot’. Charming._ _

__

__“Little baby psychos.” Gon shook his head, and took out his phone to pass the information along to Tae Eul. One text later he was heading back inside._ _

__

__Yeong was near the bar, temporarily alone it seemed. Thankfully he wasn’t holding any alcohol for a nice, sober change. He was most likely as put off by it as Gon was at the present time. Likely even more so._ _

__

__He wandered over to Yeong, thankful when he accepted his presence without hesitation._ _

__

__“A cat was going to eat me yesterday morning,” Gon said, like that was a perfectly normal thing to say to start off a conversation. To Yeong’s credit he didn’t even blink, just rolled with it. “Or, well, I thought a cat should eat me. After it ate a bird.”_ _

__

__“Go n-ithe an cat thú, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat,” Yeong said, and Gon gave him a look of mild concern._ _

__

__“Are you having a stroke, or summoning Cthulhu?”_ _

__

__“It’s an Irish insult,” Yeong said, like that little piece of knowledge was supposed to be obvious. “Some guy wearing too much green taught it me when we were in Dublin. It means ‘May the cat eat you, and may the Devil eat the cat.’”_ _

__

__“Well that’s... certainly an odd insult,” Gon ventured to say. “Were they drunk when they came up with it, or do they just not like cats?”_ _

__

__Yeong shrugged. “I didn’t invent the language. Ask the Irish about it.”_ _

__

__Gon wasn’t entirely sure how the Taoiseach would react to a question like that, but he’d be willing to bet it would cause some strain between the two countries. “Maybe not,” he said._ _

__

__“Probably a wise decision,” Yeong agreed._ _

__

__“Well, Irish cats aside,” Gon changed the subject, “did you find out any relevant information about our own non-cat-eating – probably – devil?”_ _

__

__“Actually, keeping on the subject of cats, that guy over there,” Yeong said, not even trying to be discreet as he pointed. “He said he’s friends with one of the victims. But he also said he has a cat that talks to him, so I don’t think he’s very reliable.”_ _

__

__“What does the cat tell him?” Gon inquired, distracted by his curiosity now. “What would a cat even want to talk about?” He should be focusing on another possible lead, he knew he should, this was a serious matter, but really, what would a cat want to talk about?_ _

__

__“The Great Dog Problem?” Yeong shrugged. “No idea. But it did cause the guy next to him speak up. Second guy seemed sane, and he said he saw a man leaving with the victim. About 185 centimetres, high bridged nose.”_ _

__

__“Same description as we got last time,” Gon said, and Yeong nodded._ _

__

__“Except this time,” Yeong pulled out his phone, clicked a few times, and handed it to Gon._ _

__

__Gon looked at it, then back to Yeong, surprised and with rising hope. “He was caught on video?”_ _

__

__Yeong nodded. “It’s not the best footage, but it’s way more than we had.”_ _

__

__Gon hit play. It wasn’t intentionally of the victim, but he was there in the background, his face clear. In front of him, facing away from the camera and talking to the victim was a tall man in a green jacket. His hair was short and messy, like it hadn’t been brushed in a few days, but his clothes were neat and looked relatively new. About half a minute passed, then both men got to their feet, the victim smiling at their suspect. They walked out of screen together – presumably out of the establishment, which was this very pub – the suspect’s hand resting on the victim’s lower back._ _

__

__“Have you sent it to Tae Eul yet? Her team might be able to get something out of it, and it at least confirms the previous witness’s statement.” Gon gave him back his phone, mind racing with what this could mean, what the police could possibly analyse from it. They were one step closer to catching the bastard._ _

__

__“Not yet,” Yeong said, but immediately set about sending it her. “I wanted to show you first. What about you? Get anything from those kids you dragged outside?”_ _

__

__“You saw that?” Gon rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a little abashed._ _

__

__“Of course I did.” Yeong gave him a ‘duh’ look. “So?”_ _

__

__“Apparently there’s some guy who frequents an internet café in Hongdae that those two knuckleheads think is the killer. Only according to them though, and I don’t trust their intelligence. There’s a high change of it being completely inaccurate, but it will be worth Tae Eul checking out.”_ _

__

__Yeong tilted his head, a mild looked of surprise on his face. “Do you know what this means, your Majesty?”_ _

__

__“What?” Gon asked._ _

__

__“We might have actually accomplished something for a change.”_ _

__

__Gon laughed, a quick burst of deep laughter from his chest. To be honest, they haven’t exactly accomplished much of anything they’d set out to do in this world, so Yeong wasn’t wrong. “Wonders never cease.”_ _

__

__Yeong looked at him with a smile, eyes half-moon shaped and lips pulled back enough to be a little toothy. Gon’s heart caught in his throat at seeing that smile again, the one he hadn’t seen in so long. He had such a sudden, strong urge to pull him into a hug. To embrace him, keep him close and never let go again. That one simple smile wrecked Gon, had all his walls and insecurities and doubts come crashing down in one devastating blow. One small smile powerful enough for Gon to now know just what Yeong meant to him._ _

__

__He didn’t know if he was straight, or bisexual, or if it even mattered. Because Yeong... God, he was _Yeong._ Beautiful and brave and infuriatingly loyal and just... Yeong. The one syllable word encompassing _everything_ that made Gon’s life wonderful. _ _

__

__Heart racing, chest aching, with realisation slamming into him with hurricane wind force, Gon smiled back, small and painful and a little crooked. “Alight. Just send it to her, and we can ask around. Maybe find someone else who was there.”_ _

__

__He watched Yeong send it. Just started at him for no good reason. He thought about how people would react if he waltzed back into Corea and announced he was dating Captain Jo. He thought about the backlash it would create, the scathing remarks and articles, the looks he’d get even from his own staff in the palace, the demands to break up and send Yeong off somewhere far away, the attempts to depose him and put Prince Buyeong in his place. And... he wasn’t sure how much he cared. Because the thought of Yeong... well, he was worth it._ _

__

__But it wasn’t worth Yeong’s pain. He had already put up with far too much because of Gon. Because of Gon he had spent a life in shadows – not even a life really, a half-life. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, add to that. He wouldn’t simply close his eyes and blindly allow Yeong to be hurt any more._ _

__

__“See if you can find any of the men in the video,” Gon ordered, because he didn’t think he could simply ask right now. He barely managed to keep his voice cracking with an order. If he asked, if he spoke to Yeong so familiarly, he genuinely didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from breaking._ _

__

__“Yes, your Majesty.” Yeong bowed his head._ _

__

__For a moment, just a brief moment, Gon closed his eyes, a bitter feeling overtaking him. His heart simultaneously breaking and patching itself back together with flimsy thread. The way that Yeong replied had, unbeknown to the man himself, set in stone that all they would ever be was friends._ _

__

__Maybe there was some relief in that for Gon, as well as the ache._ _

__

__One of the reasons Gon had never entered into a serious relationship was because he would never be an equal. Even if romantically they were, socially and work wise Gon would always be their superior. Even if he got married, he would still rank above his spouse._ _

__

__While he had gotten used to it with the people around him, even with the few friends he had (though he’s not entirely sure they were friends he could trust), he’d never been able to force himself to accept it with a partner. The meek, docile women he was often around were, quite frankly, boring. He didn’t want another yes man, he wanted a partner, someone who would challenge him and engage him in real conversation, someone who wasn’t intimidated by his status._ _

__

__But what use was there in even hoping for such a thing? Even Yeong, his closest friend, didn’t fit that description. He was as subservient as his title demanded, knowing his place in the hierarchy their culture thrived on and never stepping out of line._ _

__

__Yeong may have feelings for him, but a relationship between them would be a power imbalance he wasn’t sure Yeong could break through. Gon wasn’t even sure if Yeong would want to._ _

__

__And that... that wasn’t what Gon wanted, not what he needed. He wanted something with someone like he and Yeong had as children, when the younger would causally call him hyung and make demands of him without giving it a second thought. Something like he’d had, so briefly, in college._ _

__

__Gon felt like he was a tiger living in a zoo, everyone came to look, but carefully edged around the cage so as to not rattle him, and nobody ever dared pass through the gate in fear of being mauled. Something beautiful to be admired from behind a barrier._ _

__

__In a way, Yeong was now that to him. The analogy of a tiger was probably better suited for Yeong, anyway._ _

__

__He didn’t know what emotion he was displaying on his face, but Yeong was looking at him with caution. “Are you okay?” He asked, and Gon nodded and smiled._ _

__

__“Yeah. I just had a realisation. And an answer for you.” He didn’t touch Yeong, no matter how much he wanted to, how easy it would be. “You told me that you love me, and I never told you how I feel in return.”_ _

__

__It's not that he hated being King, in fact for the most part he actually enjoyed it. In many ways it gave him a freedom very few people ever got to experience. It ensured him a life of wealth and privilege and power, the best medical care in the world, granted him access to whatever he desired. Most days, he would not swap his life for another no matter what was offered in return. But on days like these, when even a blue sky looked gloomy, the negatives outweighed the positives and his too active mind couldn’t be pulled from what subject he had developed an obsessive interest in._ _

__

__But whether the sky was blue or grey Gon’s life was a pantomime, a brightly coloured scripted production put on display for everyone to watch. The world was a stage, and the director saw him only as an actor. _'Smile for the camera, look sad for the camera, make these people happy because they will give us wealth, pouring more onto the mountainous pile, be harsh and critical of these people, because they can give us nothing. Be a machine man, made of wire and coding without a heart, do not be a man made of flesh and blood and emotion.'_ The moment his make-up began to flake or fade, more would be applied. _ _

__

__Sometimes he wanted to just yell, scream to everyone that there was a person beneath the crown. That no matter how hard he tired he couldn’t ice his heart, because while he lived it would beat._ _

__

__When he was eight years old and the other children were going to Lotte World, he was stuck in a dark library with dusty tombs reading and re-reading the constitution until every word was engraved into his mind and he could quote it front to back._ _

__

__When other children were making friends and playing out in the sunshine, he was stuck in meetings with severe looking men who never smiled to learn about war and death, and how he, a mere child, should keep the troops and people safe if enemies attacked._ _

__

__He watched Yeong watch him with a mixture of hope and hopelessness, even now on the cusp of an answer to a question that plagued his life his eyes were still darting to scan every face and movement for anyone suspicious, because Gon had asked him too, and Yeong wouldn’t even put himself above a non-urgent order. But all Gon was thinking was that he wished Yeong could be one of those people he was observing, relaxed and free to live their lives. That they both could be._ _

__

__He’d had a chance to forgot the crown in the Republic of Korea, at least to some degree, and he’d enjoyed it immeasurably. But the holiday was over, and reality had set back it. Even across universes he couldn’t escape the crown, not for long._ _

__

__Who was he even kidding? All this emotional torment he was putting himself and Yeong through was for nothing. It couldn’t lead anywhere. At the end of the day it didn’t matter how he viewed Yeong, because nothing could change between them. If he kept pushing at it, and he fell far too deeply for Yeong in that way, he’d only be hurting himself. Why would he want to pine after a person he could never have? (The way Yeong was him. It was unfortunate enough one of them was in that position, what would be the point of both of them needlessly longing? Min Hyuk had been right.)_ _

__

__Yeong was his friend, and that was all he could ever be. Gon wasn’t even sure he’d want it any other way. Why change what they already had? Relationships often ended, and everyone knew it was hard to remain friends with a ex. Risking twenty-five years of friendship wasn’t worth it. ...It wasn’t._ _

__

__The friendship between them was too important for Gon, it was a rare thing in his life, and Yeong was the only one who had remained over the years. Yeong was the only person to be his friend simply for the sake of his friendship, not because he wanted something out of him. As children Yeong had never cared that Gon was the King, and as adults he only cared because it put a target on Gon’s back._ _

__

__The Kingdom of Corea had watched a boy become a King, but they’d also watched an even younger boy break every protocol and approach the boy-King as a friend. It had aired on national television when Yeong had disrupted Gon’s mourning to share a snack with him._ _

__

__Yeong had broken a millennium of tradition because he’d seen a young boy crying and wanted to make him happy. And what was tradition and protocol and the meaning of the crown when a human being was crying?_ _

__

__That’s the type of person Yeong is, the type of person he’d always been. He wouldn’t just stand there and watch a child cry._ _

__

__It wasn’t who Gon was, though. To him the crown came before the person, it had to. He didn’t have the luxury of choice, he could only stop a child from crying when his duties allowed for it, when it would not contradict who he was raised to be, born to be. Who he was was who he was told to be, and who he was told to be was the King. He was the King before he was Lee Gon, he was the crown before he was a person._ _

__

__Gon didn’t really know who Lee Gon the man was, had never had the chance to explore himself, but he did know what he should be. His life was not his own. He belonged to the Kingdom of Corea as much as Corea belonged to him. His life had been set in stone from the moment of conception, his path laid out and the details written. He would marry a noble woman the people approved of, and have at least one heir. He would love her – or pretend to love her, it didn’t matter so long as they looked the part – and their child would take the throne once his time was over. His life belonged to the crown that was placed upon his head at eight years old, and he could never remove it no matter how heavy the years made it._ _

__

__Now, with that barrier of precious metal between them, and fragile emotion out in the open, Gon looked into those endless deep brown eyes, and he could see a life together in them. He could see a future filled with happiness stretched out over decades. He looked into Yeong’s eyes, and thought _'I could love you for the rest of my life.'_ What he said was, “I’m sorry, Yeong,” voice steady and unwavering, “but I don’t have any feelings for you. Not beyond friendship.” _ _

__

___Fuck._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Tae Eul brings Shin Jae in on the case. Gon continues to be academically intelligent and emotionally moronic.


End file.
